Finding Asuka Langley
by sydneyeliza
Summary: Twelve years after Nerv, Sorhyu Asuka Langley sets out to find out who she really is.
1. Asuka Arrives

Disclaimer: Don't own Evangelion, just love it, especially Misato and Asuka.  
  
Author's Note: First eva fic I've tried to write, and it's probably very confusing. I haven't really set a time period for this, but I guess I'm assuming End of Eva never occurred? There aren't too many spoilers in this first chapter, but I'm sure there will be more later.  
  
A Chinese translation of this fanfic, by Asuka201, can be found here:  
  
http : transtation. data263. com /article /show.asp ?aid=315 (remove the spaces)  
  
Thanks for reading! Drop me a review if you'd like. I'd love to hear from you!  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
_I don't remember._  
  
"She's young. I'm guessing around twenty-five, twenty-six."  
  
A pause. A slight pressure on her head.  
  
"Look at the color of that hair. She must have been a great beauty at some point."  
  
A cold breeze. Unfamiliar voices.  
  
"Do we know her name?"  
  
Her name. The three words she used to flaunt so flirtingly all the time.  
  
"No."  
  
She was nameless. A nonentity wandering this earth.  
  
A sigh. "We'll wait for her to wake up. Perhaps then she'll be able to tell us more about herself."  
  
"Yes, that would be for the best."  
  
A closing door followed by another cold draft. She could feel her hair blowing softly across her face, but she couldn't move her fingers. She cannot open her eyes to see where she is.  
  
Who am I?  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
There was a soft beep as the monitor lines turned green and the clear plastic covering slid off of the patient as if by magic. The girl lying inside slowly opened her eyes.  
  
A blank patternless ceiling.  
  
"Oh, you're awake!" The well-meaning nurse hurried over to her side. "How are you feeling?"  
  
She tried to speak. No words came from her lips, only a ragged rasp of a sound.  
  
The nurse looked concerned. "Do you want some water?"  
  
She nodded faintly. The nurse smiled, patted her hand, and hurried away.  
  
Who am I?  
  
The question came back to haunt her as she searched the depths of her mind for answers. Surprisingly, the girl who had always told herself that there was no need for others, that she could thrive alone, vaguely remembered the names of others—but not her own.  
  
Misato. Major Katsuragi Misato. A young woman with strikingly dark purple hair.  
  
Ritsuko. The blonde. She could no longer remember her surname, except that it began with an A sound.  
  
Rei? The silent one. The one whose name meant "zero". The one she had hated so much, although now she couldn't remember why.  
  
Shinji.  
  
One word was synonymous with that name in her mind. Baka.  
  
She closed her eyes and scrunched them up, racking her brains. Why could she remember all these names, or fragments of names, but not her own? There were three distinct words—that she knew—but nothing else.  
  
She propped herself up on her elbows and looked around, inspecting all the technologically advanced machines, then came back to her own body. Her feet were grimy and the soles were rough. She wiggled her toes. Her long copper hair, once long and shiny, was now dull and felt like a weight on her shoulders.  
  
There was something hard under her, digging into her flesh. She reached under and pulled it out.  
  
A plastic card, splattered with large red X's that covered the face and name of a teenage girl.  
  
Who is she?  
  
The door slid open abruptly and the nurse stepped back in, efficiently holding up a tall glass of water and closing the door with her foot. "Here you go."  
  
The girl hesitated, then lifted it slowly to her lips. The cool liquid was like honey nectar to her dry, rasping throat. She drank her fill, then wiped at her lips with her free hand.  
  
The nurse pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. "Would you like to tell me your name?"  
  
She shook her head. She could not be sure of her voice yet. The nurse averted her gaze, clearly disappointed, and it landed on the card in her pale white hands.  
  
"It's a picture of you."  
  
She tried hard to comprehend the words. A picture of her? This was what she looked like?  
  
No, this girl was alive. She felt very dead and hollow inside.  
  
"May I see it?"  
  
Her fingers tightened on the card. Nevertheless, without much effort the nurse freed it from her hands and squinted as she rotated it back and forth, inspecting every aspect.  
  
"Nerv, UN...Sorhyu Asuka Langley. 0001-257-33."  
  
Sorhyu Asuka Langley.  
  
That's my name.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Several days passed before Asuka could speak again, and she did so then only in utter privacy. Her voice was quiet and weak at first, as she repeated the names of the objects around her, afraid to unlock the secrets of her mind and heart. She knew that if she revealed her vocal secret to the nurse, they would be interrogating her endlessly about her past. After all, she had no idea how she had turned up here and had only an ID card with a past picture of her and a few memories of some fragmented names.  
  
Ever since she had regained consciousness, the nurse had taken a great liking to her and gone to extremes to make her happy. In one way Asuka was happy for her company, but in another way, her incessant chatting had quickly become old. She'd learned plenty about the woman's daughters, sisters, brothers, aunts, and other relatives. She had heard so much about her house that she could probably draw a detailed diagram of it, providing she could control her mind and fingers.  
  
She was fine physically. Asuka knew that. It was her mind that she was concerned about.  
  
She was alone in her room now, the fifth morning since she had awakened from her coma. The names of the machines and furniture around her had quickly become old, and slowly, bit by bit, she began to tear at the cement wall she had constructed around the people of her past.  
  
The one she remembered the most was the one she'd dubbed "baka" without really knowing why. What he had done in the past to make her call him that, she didn't know. Gradually, however, she was beginning to remember how he looked. He had been a tall, skinny boy with a long neck and distinctly feminine eyes. His hair had been dark brown and had often stuck at odd angles. In her mind he always wore the same expression—a shy, terrified look.  
  
Asuka was sleeping regular hours now, and he was appearing in her dreams, as well. With the exception of the lack of dialogue, her dreams might have constituted the past. Shinji-baka was always standing in a vaguely kitchen, his head hanging low. Asuka wanted to yell at him, to reprimand him although she didn't know what he'd done, but she couldn't speak. She had no voice.  
  
But before she could find out who he, Misato Katsuragi, Ritsuko, or the mysterious Rei was, she'd have to find out who she herself was.  
  
The problem was that all she had was an ID card of a person she didn't recognize anymore. 


	2. First Steps

"Asuka-chan."  
  
It was amazing just how accustomed the nurse had become to calling her Asuka, almost as if it was a pet name.  
  
Obligingly Asuka swung her legs over the side of the bed and shivered as her toes made contact with the cold floor. She was still barefoot and the chilliness traveled from her feet up throughout her body. The redhead folded her arms around herself. Why was it so cold in this damn place?  
  
As usual, the nurse offered her arm and Asuka took it. In these few days she had learned much. She had learned that her nurse's name was Hazuki-san, was thirty-two, and had spent five of those years in this hospital. She had learned that this was one of the best hospitals in Japan, where many of the specialists worked. She had learned that there was a restroom to the left of her room and a small cafeteria down the hallway.  
  
But Asuka had discovered nothing about herself, and that frustrated her immensely.  
  
She thought back to the image on the ID card. A winking younger girl holding up two fingers in a "V" symbol, a wide smile on her face.  
  
Her name is Sorhyu Asuka Langley.  
  
My name is Sorhyu Asuka Langley.  
  
But are we the same person?  
  
In recent days, Hazuki-san had brushed out her long hair and tied it back with a thick pink ribbon. She'd futilely tried for the look in the teenage photo and finally settled on a simple ponytail, with the copper cascade fastened low on the back of Asuka's neck.  
  
In addition, she'd brought Asuka a clean hospital gown daily but didn't insist on throwing away the rags the redhead had worn when she showed up at the hospital—how she had done so was still a mystery. Surprisingly Asuka didn't mind; the new gown was large, spacey, and smelled clean and fresh. It was a nice change from the soiled blue-green dress she had been wearing. Hazuki-san had even taken it home and washed it and mended all the rips. Asuka was quite grateful to her for that, if she could feel gratitude in her state of confusion.  
  
How old am I?  
  
Another question had crept into her mind. Hazuki-san had told her that she appeared about twenty-five or twenty-six, although no medical records on any Sorhyu Asuka Langleys could be found.  
  
"You look very nice." Hazuki-san smiled, obviously proud of the young lady on her arm. "Ready to turn back now?"  
  
Asuka shook her head.  
  
She wanted to explore. She wanted to let go of Hazuki-san's hand and walk on her own to the open window nearby from which sunlight streamed in. Asuka could hear the sound of the cars and birds outside.  
  
She loosened her grip on her nurse's arm and took her first wobbling steps alone, feeling foolish and frustrated.  
  
If I can't remember how to do something as easy as walking, how will I find out who I am?  
  
Asuka stumbled and tripped to the floor. Hazuki-san ran to her side, a sturdy arm ready, but Asuka ignored her and climbed back to her feet. The nurse backed away after seeing the determined look on her patient's face and remained a good distance away.  
  
It took her nearly ten minutes to cover the twenty feet ahead of her, but when Asuka got there she placed both hands on the windowsill and threw her head back, feeling her hair tickle her face as it was blown backwards. She didn't mind this kind of cold. Unknown to the redhead, Hazuki-san strategically placed herself off at an angle, so that she wouldn't be interfering, but would be close enough to help should anything occur.  
  
Asuka breathed in the fresh sweet-smelling air, and wished that she would never have to return to that stuffy room she lived in, where everything smelled of antiseptics and various medical chemicals.  
  
She was still pretending to be mute. As much as she appreciated the efforts of her nurse, the well-meaning woman had begun practically bombarding her with questions. Since she couldn't reply vocally, Hazuki-san had brought her a pretty notebook with pale green pages bordered with pink cherry blossoms. Asuka had simply laid the book aside and turned her head away.  
  
I'm not willing to tell Hazuki-san what I know, although I've already begun to remember.  
  
She remembered a little bit about the kitchen. Certainly Misato had been there many times, along with a penguin. Or had her mind simply invented that detail? Asuka shook her head to clear it. A penguin in a kitchen... surely she was going mad. There was a table in the middle, stacked high with cans of beer. She wondered how Hazuki-san would react if she told her about the penguin and beer.  
  
She'd probably wind up in a mental institution.  
  
Penguins and beer... so where did the Misato girl fit in?  
  
Asuka was still working on that.  
  
She remembered distinctly the purple hair, the large curls on either side of her forehead. She recalled Misato going to a wedding, wearing an expensive dress of nearly the same shade.  
  
Asuka placed one elbow on the windowsill and propped her chin up on her fist. The slightest tilting of her wrist allowed her to look down and see the busy street below.  
  
How many cars there were.  
  
How tall the buildings were.  
  
How stable they looked. As if they could be shifted ten stories up or down without toppling at all.  
  
Asuka had a sudden vision of Tokyo-3 suddenly becoming an underground city...  
  
= = = = = =  
  
"Asuka-chan!"  
  
Asuka was angry at herself, pounding on her forehead with a fist now. She'd found no answers, but unearthed a series of new questions. She'd encountered the terrifying monsters that were called Angels. She had seen the huge red and purple structures. She'd heard their names. Eva.  
  
A new word. A new mystery.  
  
"Asuka-chan!"  
  
Hazuki-san helped her back to her room and immediately put her to bed, at which time Asuka turned away and lay on her side, facing away from her nurse.  
  
She was unable to stop the sniffling, as much as she hated it.  
  
Who am I? Why am I here?  
  
Do I have no family?  
  
Why do I remember that monster, Eva?  
  
"Do you want some water?"  
  
Asuka closed her eyes tightly, trying to hold back the tears, blocking out Hazuki-san's voice. She had once been a strong-willed young woman, that she knew for sure. Probably someone who never gave any thought to anyone else before she spoke. One who cared only for herself.  
  
So why am I not that person now?  
  
I answer to Asuka. But I am not Sorhyu Asuka Langley anymore.  
  
Hazuki-san stayed with her patient until the sobbing stopped and her shoulders moved up and down evenly in rhythm with her calmed breathing. As soon as she disappeared, Asuka flipped onto her back, then reached under her pillow and pulled out the tattered dress. One of the only two secrets to her identity.  
  
She smoothed it out on the bed and wondered where it had come from. She'd certainly never worn such a dress in her dreams.  
  
No, there'd had been something else. Something large and red. Much bigger than a dress, or even a long winter overcoat.  
  
Asuka's eyes widened in surprise.  
  
Eva? 


	3. A Visitor

"I'm here to see Sorhyu Asuka Langley."  
  
The receptionist glanced up from whatever she had been writing and shifted her gaze to the woman in front of her. She held a small bouquet of unrecognizable flowers in one hand, the blossoms small and bunched together. Her facial expression immediately showed that she was not a woman to mess with.  
  
With one finger, the receptionist tapped the keyboard languidly. It took an agonizingly long time for her to pull up Asuka's files. The visitor remembered Ritsuko Akagi's technological talent.  
  
"Sorhyu Asuka Langley is in Room 212. The elevators are to your right."  
  
"Arigatoo."  
  
She bowed to a 45-degree angle, then pivoted and headed towards the elevators.  
  
She was older now, of course, and she'd begun to find a few white hairs—the result of her worrying and sorrow over the last decade—but overall, she felt she hadn't changed much. She still walked the same way, her back held straight, her arms swinging from side to side—her hands balled into fists. Sometimes she would still have a cell phone to her ear and her words would still rush as a stream of commands, her voice never faltering when giving directions.  
  
Her hand shook ever so slightly as she reached for the button labeled "up". She paused, then looked over her shoulder. The receptionist was watching her.  
  
Misato Katsuragi pressed the button and stepped into the narrow elevator, a steely glint in her chocolate eyes.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Asuka was in bed again.  
  
Of course, that wasn't too uncommon. She got up around 9 every day, went for her morning walk with Hazuki-san, came back to her room for breakfast, and had the rest of the day free to herself—save for mealtimes.  
  
Much to her delight—and her nurse's—the I.V. line had been removed from her arm, and Asuka was beginning to try foods that had been denied to her before. A variety of fruits and vegetables stacked up in her room faster than she could eat them. She was propped up now by a stack of pillows, trying to peel an orange.  
  
In addition to learning of her past, Asuka felt as if she had to relearn how to act human, and it frustrated her. She'd finally mastered the art of moving her legs evenly, walking without toppling over. It hadn't been too hard to learn how to use a knife and fork, but chopsticks were another matter. When Hazuki-san took her meals with her favorite patient, the redhead would sit and marvel as she deftly picked up food with two thin bamboo sticks.  
  
At the other end of the spectrum were foods such as oranges, which required no utensils to eat. When she had first found herself faced with a round, waxy orange fruit, Asuka had tried to bite through the thick peel. When that failed, she stabbed it ferociously with an fork—the result of which was that orange juice squirted out and got in her eye. Eventually Hazuki- san came by and removed the peel, but by then Asuka was utterly exasperated with herself and had enough. The orange remained uneaten.  
  
There were days when she had more patience, and today was one of them. She'd gone for her morning walk (without clinging to Hazuki-san's arm!) and even visited a few other patients. Her nurse had taken her down to the children's ward and let her watch them playing and recovering through the glass wall. One young girl, stumbling to walk, even made her way over to the wall and laughed as she pressed a tiny hand onto her side of the glass. To Hazuki's astonishment and delight, Asuka had responded by smiling and pressing her hand against that of the child.  
  
It was one of the tiny, nominal happy memories of her new life that Asuka treasured as diamonds in her mind. Ever since she had come to the hospital, she had had virtually no contact with anybody other than Hazuki-san, except for the gruff doctor who came in every few days to make sure that she was all right. It still astonished her that that little girl had actually been happy to see her—her, a lost, insignificant person who didn't even know who she was.  
  
Asuka didn't notice that she was smiling slightly as she remembered. She dug her nail into the peel and bent her thumb. With a soft ripping sound, loud in the silence of her room, the peel pulled away from the juicy orange flesh. Asuka stared, surprised. Then she laughed, a gurgle of excitement bubbling from her throat. She peeled the rest of it happily, in the same way, then divided the inside into twelve equal pieces as Hazuki-san had shown her. She held each piece up to the light, in turn, and marveled at the prettiness of the translucent orange fruit.  
  
Misato watched dejectedly through the slits in the blinds of Asuka's window.  
  
So this was what the young, talented fiery pilot of Eva 02 had become.  
  
She resisted the urge to bang on the window, realizing that Asuka would probably go mad at someone disturbing her joy with the orange—and furthermore, she probably couldn't see her former commander through the blinds. Misato sighed. The flowers in her hand seemed to wilt with her dejection. She looked down at them and plucked off a petal absentmindedly, then let it flutter to the floor. It hadn't surprised her that the receptionist had looked at it so curiously—after all, they weren't the usual roses, lilies, or spring bouquets one might bring to cheer up a friend. Misato had plucked the starflowers from a patch in the woods and tried to arrange them among the watermelon flowers. There were a few wild daisies and something in her yard that looked suspiciously like a weed—but it was colorful and flowering, so Misato had added it. The result was a rather mismatching bundle of flowers, all in different lengths and sizes.  
  
The former Nerv commander turned her gaze back to her former charge. All the slices of oranges were gone and Asuka was on her feet in front of the platter of fruit. A few minutes later she crept back into bed with an armload of apples, oranges, and kiwifruits. Misato watched as she opened up another orange and began to eat.  
  
She wondered that they let her do that, day after day.  
  
Misato sighed again and wondered why Ritsuko hadn't told her of Asuka's condition, only that she was in Tokyo-3. Even after Nerv had split, she and Ritsuko had remained distantly in touch—an email or phone call now and then. Her college classmate was working as an engineer in Kyoto and seemed to regard her memories of the Nerv years coolly, though she was not overly sensitive—as Misato sometimes tended to feel—although she hid it. It was a skill she'd developed and refined over the years since the Second Impact.  
  
It hadn't really surprised Misato when Ritsuko called. She'd been expecting it; after all, over two months had passed since the blonde had last written. What shocked her was the unusual shortness of the call—and the jarring message Ritsuko had to deliver.  
  
Asuka's back.  
  
Sorhyu Asuka Langley? The redhead who used to hit Shinji and call him "baka" all the time?  
  
Misato wouldn't believe it at first. Part of her didn't want to believe it. But Ritsuko, with her quiet words of truth and that uncanny understanding of her old friend, soon won her over.  
  
Her young charges had split soon after Nerv disintegrated and the angel attacks stopped. Asuka had been the first to leave, declaring that she was off to "make a difference in the world"—as if she hadn't already—and that she was glad to be rid of "ano baka" and Misato. The door had slammed and she had gone. Misato had had too much on her mind to worry about her then.  
  
Ikari Shinji... Misato still wondered sometimes how he had looked at her and how he would come to remember her in the future. Ikari Gendo's son had informed her quietly that he was leaving, thanked her for everything, and disappeared soon after. Not a word to his father.  
  
With her apartment now quiet and empty, a dismal change from the usual affairs of the Katsuragi residence, Misato moved into Kaji's residence—and was even more dismayed to find his backyard consisting solely of a huge patch of dried up watermelons. In time she'd replanted some and cut out dead vines, and now they produced more watermelons than she could ever eat. The younger children around her neighborhood would come by from time to time and she'd give her watermelons to them to take home. She had no use for them and furthermore, knew it was what Kaji would have done.  
  
She didn't know anything about any of the other Nerv employees. Nothing of Rei, the shy and quiet girl. Nothing of Ikari Gendo, Maya Ibuki, or that other guy who'd once had a crush on her—she couldn't even remember his name now, twelve years later.  
  
A bustling young nurse, appearing maybe ten years younger than her, brushed past her and entered Asuka's room, glancing at her curiously. Misato backed away a little so she wouldn't seem as if she were intruding.  
  
She watched Asuka smile in a childlike way upon seeing the nurse, but she never spoke a word. Misato was startled. Not only had Asuka perhaps gone insane, but now she was also mute?  
  
She knew Asuka wouldn't be ready to face her yet, ready to face the horrors of her past. Misato backed away slowly, leaving her ragged bouquet on the windowsill.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Asuka-chan!"  
  
Asuka looked up from her fifth orange and smiled happily, but didn't say a word.  
  
Hazuki-san pulled over a chair and sat down next to Asuka. "Would you like to go for a walk outside?"  
  
Asuka nodded. She had never seen the little garden outside that her nurse had been telling her about. Hazuki-san grinned, but the expression wore off slowly as she noticed the increasing pile of orange peels on and under the blanket.  
  
"Asuka-chan...how many oranges did you eat...?!"  
  
Asuka paused, then held up all the fingers of her right hand.  
  
Hazuki-san stared.  
  
Asuka got out of bed herself, planting both feet toes-first on the floor and waiting as Hazuki-san pulled her chair back to its proper place. "There's a lady outside your room with long purple hair. Do you know her?"  
  
Misato is here?  
  
The name came to Asuka's head immediately, and she was afraid her facial expression would give it away. Quickly she shook her head.  
  
"No?" Hazuki-san was not disappointed. "Never mind that then, let's go outside."  
  
The German redhead followed her nurse outside, looking around cautiously.  
  
"She left her flowers."  
  
She brought me flowers?  
  
Hazuki-san picked up the wilted bouquet and handed it to Asuka. The girl was silent in thought, wondering whether it was for the better or worse that she had missed Katsuragi-san. She fiddled with the bouquet for a few minutes, then pulled out the pink daisies and threw the rest into the trash.  
  
"There will be much prettier flowers in the garden, Asuka-chan."  
  
Asuka spun the flowers in her hands, forming a ring of pink petals and yellow stems, then tucked them behind her ear. Hazuki-san moved towards the elevator and beckoned for her to follow.  
  
Her patient surprised her a moment later, however, as she stepped inside and reached over to press the button labeled "1".  
  
Of the two people in the metal box, Asuka was the more surprised. She had not known exactly what an elevator was, but she had certainly known what to do once she got in it. And—Asuka glanced towards the panel of buttons again—goodness, there were more than fifteen. Just how had she happened to pick the correct one?  
  
Hazuki-san's face was shining with excitement, so Asuka smiled too and took it as a big leap towards becoming the girl she had been.  
  
The doors opened and Asuka stepped out first, then realized that she didn't know where to go and felt very foolish. Hazuki-san laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and gently steered her to the left. As they walked down the lobby, Hazuki-san greeted other nurses and doctors, all of which nodded in greeting and hurried away. Asuka was interested in everything and kept wanting to stay behind and watch.  
  
"The really pretty things are outside," Hazuki-san told her, when Asuka discovered a new fascination in carrying people in stretchers.  
  
The glass door before Asuka opened to reveal what she could only imagine was paradise. There was a small waterfall running into a pond in which goldfish swam. Around it grew a variety of flowers, blooming in all colors. Like a hummingbird, Asuka darted from this flower to that one, and finally came to a stop in front of the pond. Hazuki-san had had enough of chasing her and was sitting on one of the many rocks that formed the border of the pool.  
  
Asuka got on her knees and extended a hand into the cold water. The fish darted away. Startled, she pulled her hand out back out and let the water drip onto the surrounding rocks.  
  
Hazuki-san laughed and, not to Asuka's surprise, began to tell her the story of how the garden and its flowers had come to be.  
  
Their shared excitement masked the sound of a blue car, driven by a very agitated purple-haired woman, pulling out of the hospital parking lot so violently that she was narrowly avoiding being tipped over at each turn.  
  
Author's Notes: Misato has entered the picture...and backed out of it again. She'll be back, though; I thought it'd be nice to add a bit of flashback, show how things went. As usual, drop me a review... tell me how I'm doing. Thanks so much to those of you who have already reviewed! 


	4. Misato Returns

Asuka was drawing in her notebook, the one Hazuki-san had brought her. She touched the creamy pale green pages with her fingertips and remembered the cherry blossoms she'd seen outside the other day.  
  
A smile crept onto her face, then quickly vanished as she turned to look at her window. Had someone been watching her?  
  
She remained sitting straight up for several moments, watching the blinds carefully. There was no motion. Asuka turned back to her book and squeezed her fingers around the pencil, watching her nail turn white and back to pink as she lessened the pressure. She was trying to draw the monster she'd seen and been inside, the red thing she knew to be called Eva.  
  
Muffled sounds came from outside her room, and a high, feminine laugh.  
  
Asuka was curious.  
  
She tucked her notebook back under her pillow, where she hid it nowadays, and crept over to the blinds. Things became very silent. She got down on her knees and slid up the wall slowly, an inch at a time, until her eye was level with the windowsill. Gently she pried away one plastic strip of the blinds.  
  
There was no one.  
  
Asuka was confused.  
  
She got back into bed and pulled the thin blanket over her knees, then reached for her notebook and her pencil. Her sketches were proof of her frustration; Asuka had torn out many a page and tossed it into the wastebasket in annoyance. Her latest try had still looked nothing like the Eva she could see so clearly in her mind. She drew another harsh line down the side of the page, dissecting several cherry blossoms as she did so.  
  
Asuka wondered how long she'd been in this hospital. Approximately two weeks since she'd woken up, but she didn't know how long she'd been in a coma—and if she intended not to talk, there wasn't any way to ask Hazuki- san. Her days were dreary, and she was finding herself bored easily. She'd found a convenient way to eat all the fruit she had been provided with and was left with only two oranges and a banana.  
  
She wanted to leave this hospital, but knew in the depths of her heart that there was nowhere for her to go. She had a name now, but still no identity.  
  
It was late afternoon when her nurse stopped in to see how she was doing.  
  
"The purple-haired lady is back, Asuka-chan," she told her, as she straightened out the bed. "She's been here three times today already, but seems to always leave as soon as she sees me."  
  
Misato's back?  
  
Asuka stared, surprised.  
  
"Do you want to see her?"  
  
Asuka thought, and looked down at her knees. Would Misato have changed as much as she had? Would she try to bombard her with memories of the past?  
  
"You don't have to if you don't want to, Asuka-chan," Hazuki-san added hastily.  
  
But Asuka had made up her mind. She sat up quickly, her eyes pleading with Hazuki-san silently as her head bobbed up and down quickly.  
  
Hazuki-san was hesitant. "Are you sure?"  
  
Another series of enthusiastic nodding, until Asuka thought her head might fall off.  
  
The nurse smiled. "I'll go get her."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Misato was back again, for the third time—and this way she'd found her way to Asuka's room without having to ask for directions once.  
  
Three days had passed since her initial visit. In those days she had spent plenty of time mulling around her watermelons, thinking things over, and whenever her thoughts got muddled—she drove back to the hospital. There was something calming about simply watching her former charge's simple play.  
  
She was there now, leaning casually against the back wall of the hallway, when the door opened again. Automatically she stepped back to let the nurse pass.  
  
However, she was mistaken; the woman wanted to speak to her.  
  
"Asuka-chan would like to see you," she said simply.  
  
Misato was shocked and surprised. The first thing that came out of her mouth was, "I...I didn't bring any flowers."  
  
The nurse laughed. "She won't care. Go on in."  
  
Misato hesitated, not sure what to do, now that she was faced with the prospect of seeing Asuka. Would she recognize her? Would she...  
  
The former Nerv commander's last thought was cut off as two small but well- meaning hands pushed her into room 212 and closed the door behind her.  
  
"Hello, Asuka."  
  
She was sitting up in bed, a pencil in hand, evidently writing something. Her blue eyes were large, fixed clearly on Misato's aging face. Her long, shiny copper hair, always fastened back with two red hairclips, now streamed down her back, restrained only by a pink ribbon.  
  
Misato felt very out of place. Perhaps Asuka would not appreciate her presence at all.  
  
Slowly, Asuka raised her hand and flexed her fingers slowly in a gesture of friendliness. Surprised, Misato came closer and pulled over a chair.  
  
"How are you doing?"  
  
It was hard enough, Misato thought, to keep up a conversation with someone you hadn't seen in twelve years, especially when you'd left off on a bad note, but to do it with someone who was now also mute? She closed her eyes.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Misato's brown eyes fluttered open. Had she really spoken? Was she hallucinating? She blinked several times, trying to hide her surprise.  
  
"I'm glad to hear that," she mustered at last, accompanying her words with a smile.  
  
Asuka smiled then, slowly, and relaxed. She leaned back against her pillows and closed her notebook with an easy, jaunty movement and shoved it under the pillow. The pencil she placed on her bedside table.  
  
"How have you been?"  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
The first two words she'd spoken in days were hard to release, but the excitement that shone on Misato's face was worth every bit of initial embarrassment Asuka had felt. Yes, now she was finally ready to talk, and she wanted to know everything.  
  
Misato looked more comfortable now that she had initiated a question, and chose her words carefully. "Well, I've moved out of our old apartment, and into a larger, single house now," she said. "It's got a big garden in the backyard, and children like to come and play in it."  
  
Asuka didn't make the connection between "big house" and "Kaji's old house". Neither did she realize that the "big garden" was filled with "watermelons".  
  
"Is there any beer in your house?"  
  
She remembers the beer? Misato was shocked.  
  
"No, not anymore," she said, laughing a little. "I've stopped drinking since—well, a long time ago."  
  
Silence dominated the next few moments.  
  
Asuka was quiet, wondering if she dared ask the question that had been whirring in her mind. She decided to go ahead with it, although she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer or not.  
  
"Misato."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
Asuka paused, then assumed a faint air of confidence. "Tell me about...Rei, and Shinji."  
  
Misato was very quiet, thinking this over.  
  
"Misato?"  
  
She hasn't changed much, Misato thought. "Would you like to know more about what they were like before, or where they are now?"  
  
She half expected the words to earn her a slap in the face. The Asuka she remembered would easily have taken the first half of her sentence as an insult of her usually excellent memory. The second half could get her into trouble because she honestly didn't know what had happened to them.  
  
But Asuka, in her new quiet tone of voice, replied, "Anything you would like."  
  
"Hmm. Let me think." Misato bought herself some time as she frantically tried to think. What could she tell Asuka, that would not be related to Evangelion, the angels, and Nerv?  
  
"Ikari Shinji and Ayanami Rei were your classmates," she began slowly. "Shinji lived in the same apartment as you and me." She went out on a limb, continuing, "I remember that you liked to call him 'baka'."  
  
"Yes, I remember too," Asuka said, without a hint of vengeance, and shocked Misato yet again. "But I don't remember why I did."  
  
Misato diverted the subject. "What else do you remember about Shinji? Or Rei?"  
  
"Shinji was...tall, and skinny, with brown hair," Asuka said slowly. Her gaze was directed at the leg of Misato's chair. She frowned as she thought. "Rei was... very quiet. I don't remember her saying much."  
  
That's all she remembers, Misato thought. Not much for having spent over a year with them.  
  
"Misato."  
  
"Yes, Asuka?"  
  
"Tell me about Eva."  
  
Her words were direct, each spoken clearly and evenly. Asuka was conscious of herself leaning forward, wanting to know the truth. She had finally met someone who could help her identify herself, and she wanted to milk it for all that it was worth.  
  
Misato said, "Are you sure?"  
  
Without a hint of hesitance: "Yes. I want to know everything."  
  
So Misato pulled her chair closer and began. She told her former charge of the Eva Unit 02 that she had controlled, of the Evas of Rei and Shinji. She told her about the angels, Tokyo-3, and Nerv. There was so much to talk about, Misato mused, as she continued about Ikari Gendo and Akagi Ritsuko, the Magi computers, how the Second Child had been brought to Japan from Germany. How strange this must sound to a girl who had experienced nothing beyond a soft bed, oranges, and a trip to the garden, yet had gone through more than most people her age would ever face.  
  
When she paused, nearly thirty minutes later, Misato was afraid of Asuka's reaction.  
  
Instead, Asuka smiled. "Thank you."  
  
Misato was beginning to wonder if the new Asuka would ever cease to surprise her.  
  
Asuka relaxed and lay back down, crossing her legs. "Tell me about what I was like, Misato."  
  
The commanding Asuka is back.  
  
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Are you sure you want to know?"  
  
"Yes. I want to know everything. I want to know what I looked like, what kinds of clothes I wore, what I—"  
  
The door opened behind Misato, cutting the redhead off sharply.  
  
"Asuka-chan! Why didn't you tell me you could speak perfectly?"  
  
The young woman was suddenly at a loss for words. The expression on her nurse's face was one of surprise and hurt. Hurt, Asuka realized with a sinking feeling, that Hazuki-san had done everything for her, yet she had opened up to what was practically a complete stranger instead.  
  
"I," Asuka began awkwardly, "...wasn't ready to talk."  
  
It was Misato who quickly intervened.  
  
"I'm sure Asuka will be willing to speak with you later," she said quietly, in a formal tone that implied the end of the matter. Hazuki-san nodded and, not meeting Asuka's eyes, closed the door again.  
  
"Asuka?"  
  
Asuka, who had temporarily been very busy studying Misato's chair leg again, quickly swung her gaze back up. "Yes, go on."  
  
Misato chuckled. "You were always very direct about your opinions, especially to Shinji. You often liked to call him 'baka' and seemed to regard your missions as a competition of who was a better Eva pilot. As for Rei, she was the favorite of Commander Ikari, and it would annoy you immensely when she disagreed with you. You, me, and Shinji lived together in my apartment, along with my pet penguin Pen-pen—"  
  
Asuka looked as if she were trying to keep from bursting out in laughter.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"A pet penguin," Asuka replied, "with red feathers growing out of the top of his head. I remember him."  
  
Misato smiled, though the image in her mind was of the many lonely nights she'd spent on the front steps of Kaji's house, looking up at the stars and thinking of the past. She would put her arms around the penguin and rub her cheek against his soft feathers, hoping he understood her feelings.  
  
How lonely she still felt sometimes.  
  
"Ne, Asuka." Misato leaned in closer. "When you get out of this hospital, would you like to come and stay with me?" The door opened behind her and the nurse stepped in again. Misato knew it was her time to leave, but she stood her ground.  
  
"Yes, Misato, I would like that very much."  
  
Misato smiled. "Then I'll be waiting." She got up and left.  
  
Author's note: For all you Shinji fans, I promise he'll be here! Not quite sure when, but he's on his way! And as usual, drop me a review, this certainly wasn't my favorite chapter but I'd like to know what you thought. 


	5. Going Home

"Smile, Asuka-chan."  
  
The redhead turned slightly to the left and looked directly at the lens as she smiled. Hazuki-san pressed the button and bathed Asuka in a dazzling flash of white.  
  
Today was a special day for both of them, for Asuka was finally leaving the hospital to go home with Misato. Hazuki-san had finished all her paperwork, then presented her with a small bundle. Inside were two things: the old blue-green dress she had worn upon arriving, now clean and devoid of tears, along with a new summer dress of light pink with little strawberries scattered across the soft cotton.  
  
It was in this dress that Asuka was posing now, in the garden outside, as a memoir for her nurse.  
  
The day had been special to start with. She had woken up early, had brushed her own hair and teeth—a big achievement for her—and eaten breakfast in the cafeteria with Hazuki-san (oranges, as usual, and cereal). Now that her mini photo shoot was done, they headed back into the lobby. Misato was due any minute.  
  
Hazuki-san headed off to quickly check up on a few patients, promising to return quickly. Asuka nodded and settled herself on a chair, balancing both arms evenly on the black leather armrests. She clicked her heels on the smooth tiled floor, then held both legs up straight in front of her so that she could inspect her shoes. They were clean and the buckles were shiny. She returned her feet to the floor and her gaze to the door.  
  
The two sides split open neatly as a young woman about her age appeared, leading a little boy by the hand. The child was whimpering and cowering against his mother's legs. Exasperated, the mother reached down and pulled the boy up into her arms.  
  
Interested, Asuka kept watching them as they stopped by the front desk, and then came over to sit by her. The mother sat down a few seats down and immediately closed her eyes, but the boy slowly overcame his initial fear and came over to plop himself down on the seat beside Asuka.  
  
Asuka was suddenly not sure what to do or say, but he fixed that problem for her.  
  
"Hi!" His face burst into a wide smile.  
  
"Hi," Asuka said quietly. Encouraged, the boy moved closer, and reached for the package containing her old clothes. Instinctively the redhead moved it away.  
  
"What's that?" He stood on tiptoe, using one hand to balance himself while pointing with the other.  
  
"Kiyoshi, don't bother the nice lady," his mother called.  
  
He paid no attention, and placed one hand on Asuka's knee as he attempted to reach for the package. Worried now, Asuka raised it high, out of his reach, and slid as far away as the narrow seat would allow her.  
  
"Asuka."  
  
The tall purple-haired woman felt an instinct to laugh at Asuka's situation, as well as the expression of surprise she wore, but didn't as she deftly took the package from her outstretched hand. "Come on, let's go."  
  
Asuka stood up and darted away from the child, who sat down and promptly started to cry. She glanced at him hesitantly, but the mother got up and removed him from her sight.  
  
"Asuka." The redhead turned to face Misato, standing nearly ten paces ahead of her. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Hazuki-san said she'd be here."  
  
Misato put two and two together and remembered the nurse. Asuka lingered just a moment more, sensing Misato's impatience to leave.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
The twin glass doors split open to let them pass, then shut again behind them. Misato handed the package back to Asuka and transferred both hands to the handle of her purse. Halfway down the stairs, Misato pulled out a tiny remote and pressed a button on it. Somewhere in the distance a beep sounded, followed by a click.  
  
She opened the door to the passenger's seat, but the girl was motionless, her gaze fixed on the large white building from which they had just emerged.  
  
I'm going home.  
  
"Asuka."  
  
Asuka ducked her head as she crept into the car. Misato slammed the door and got into her seat, then fastened her seatbelt. She stamped on the accelerator and the car shot forward. Next to her, Asuka let out a shriek as she was thrown against the glove compartment. The car thudded to a stop as Misato transferred her foot to the brake.  
  
"Where's your seat belt?" Misato asked, frowning as she looked at the loosely hanging strap by the side of Asuka's seat. When the redhead was settled again, Misato reached across the car to grab the belt and buckle it in.  
  
"Thanks," Asuka said meekly.  
  
By the end of the violent ride, Asuka had been submitted to every kind of turn and stop possible. Misato slammed on her brakes only twelve feet away from the parking space, and the car rotated around to barely fit between the white lines as it came to a stop.  
  
Misato got out and went to help Asuka out, but to her surprise the redhead was already standing on the asphalt when she got there.  
  
"Is this where you live?" She gestured to the woods in front of her.  
  
"No. We'll take a shortcut."  
  
Some twenty minutes later a small wooden house emerged in front of them, surrounded by a fence of sparsely placed wooden poles. Asuka followed Misato up to the front door and inside the house.  
  
"Well, welcome home." Misato kicked her shoes off and left them where they landed, approximately ten feet from the door. "You can take a look around if you want. I'll make some lunch."  
  
Following Misato's example, Asuka took her shoes off and followed her into the kitchen. Misato was boiling water and taking things out of the refrigerator. Asuka looked around, noticing how bare it was—as well as the lack of beer. Even her windows were curtainless and the sun shone in directly through the panes of glass. Immediately beside the kitchen was a small room with a centered wooden table only a foot above the ground. It looked relatively new compared to the rest of the furniture; had Misato bought it for her homecoming? Asuka placed her package on it and wandered to the rest of the house.  
  
It was a one-story structure, with only four or five rooms as far as Asuka could see. On the other side of the kitchen was a slightly larger room with two straw mats spread upon the floor and two worn and faded blankets spread upon them. This must be Misato's bedroom, and the other cot must be for her. There was little else in the sparsely furnished room, save for a mirror tacked onto the wall above one cot and an old dresser under it. Asuka came in a little farther and saw that there was a closet too; inside she found various pieces of feminine clothing. Hidden in the back, however, was a stash of old clothing, none of which was folded very neatly—all distinctly male. Asuka pulled out the first article of clothing she could see and held it up.  
  
It was a man's jacket, dark blue with a triangular pocket in the upper left quadrant.  
  
It seemed oddly familiar to her, and Asuka held it close to her chest for a minute, inhaling the deep scent of someone who hadn't touched it in years. Hearing Misato's footsteps, Asuka folded it roughly, shoved it back into the closet, and reappeared just as Misato poked her head in.  
  
"Asuka, lunch is ready."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Asuka was seated opposing Misato at the square table, her legs neatly crossed. In her hand she held a bowl of soup and noodles; on the table in front of her was a basket of bread. She was hesitant to eat at first, tearing her bread into small pieces and taking time to chew each, but Misato's warm familiarity enveloped her quickly, and she began to eat at a similar pace.  
  
Misato sat her bowl down with a clunk and waited to Asuka to finish. "Hey, Asuka, is there anything I can show you later?"  
  
Asuka put her soup down. "Are those watermelons in the backyard?"  
  
"Yes, they're just about ripe. We can go out and pick one if you'd like."  
  
Asuka nodded in agreement. Hazuki-san had once brought her a whole watermelon and sliced it then and there, in front of her bed. She had been excited to see and taste the frosty red flesh of the fruit. But never had she seen watermelons scattered in a field before...  
  
She finished her soup and hurried to the door to put on her shoes as Misato cleared the table and stacked the bowls on top of some previously used unwashed utensils.  
  
Asuka opened the door and went outside, marveling at the vastness of the world in front of her. In the last few weeks she'd known only her bedroom, the hallway that led to her room, and the garden outside, which now seemed tiny. She'd never imagined such great forests with trees that seemed to reach to the sky. The sky over the hospital had been blemished with the tops of skyscrapers and only patches of blue and white fluffy cloud peeked through.  
  
She was still gazing off into the distance when Misato appeared a moment later and led her around the house to the back. The watermelon patch seemed even larger than it had appeared through the window.  
  
Asuka asked, "How do you pick watermelons?"  
  
Misato laughed and got down on one knee. "Well, I like to hit them like this," she said, demonstrating. "If it sounds hollow, then it's right for picking."  
  
Asuka got down beside Misato and patted a watermelon tentatively, half expecting it to explode. Nothing happened. She landed a hard thump and a hollow, drum-like sound came from the fruit.  
  
Misato broke the vine and Asuka lifted it, finding it surprisingly heavy. Slices of watermelon weighed so much less, she mused, than a big lump of watermelon.  
  
"Misato-san!"  
  
Misato and Asuka, halfway around the house by now, turned around abruptly. The watermelon bounced out of Asuka's hands and landed back in the dirt. A group of children ran over, jumping skillfully over unripe watermelons as they did.  
  
"Misato-san!"  
  
Despite the smile on Misato's face, they all stopped short about ten feet from her. None threw themselves into her arms. Their smiles faded into a puzzled expression as five pairs of eyes swiveled to settle on Asuka's face. The redhead suddenly felt very uncomfortable.  
  
"This is Sorhyu Asuka Langley," Misato said smoothly, "one of my old friends."  
  
One by one they introduced themselves, and slowly Asuka began to feel less intimidated. Misato went inside to get a knife and plates, and Asuka chided herself for feeling scared of them. After all, they were just children, and how old was she?  
  
I don't know, she reminded herself irritably. Much older than them though.  
  
With surprisingly strong arms, the children arranged some large watermelons into a ring without breaking their vines. Each was now sitting on a watermelon, and the oldest of the children pointed to the biggest oblong- shaped fruit.  
  
"That's for you," he told Asuka.  
  
So by the time Misato returned, Asuka and her new friends were each seated on a watermelon and making small talk. The girls were mainly interested in her hair and wanted to know why it was that shade of copper-red, which Asuka couldn't explain. The boys were more interested in telling her about how they came over to eat watermelons every day.  
  
"I caught fifteen fireflies here yesterday," one of them announced proudly.  
  
"I hope you all haven't been bothering Asuka," Misato said sternly, as she passed out plates. "She's had a long day."  
  
"When can we pick out a watermelon?" one of the younger girls asked.  
  
"Asuka's already picked one out," Misato announced, and turned around to get it. A minute later she lowered the large fruit in the center of their ring, and all the kids cheered.  
  
"This is the best part," one of the girls confided to Asuka.  
  
Before Asuka had time to ask, Misato lifted her knife high in the air and sunk it down into the watermelon. The striped rind split with a resounding crack, and all the children cheered. Misato cut slices and passed them out. The boys dug eagerly into their slices, but the girls politely waited, something that they evidently didn't always do, since one of the boys questioned it through a mouthful of watermelon.  
  
"Asuka-san is a guest," the oldest girl replied primly, "and you should wait for her to eat first."  
  
The boys nodded solemnly and all stopped, except for one who turned his head to spit out seeds.  
  
Asuka held a slice of the slippery fruit in her hand and bit off the top triangle. The sweet juice rolled into all the corners of her mouth and the children cheered again as she swallowed; then all ate heartily.  
  
"How long will you be staying with Misato-san?"  
  
Asuka was suddenly at a loss for words. "I... I don't know."  
  
"She will be here as long as she wants to," Misato said, grinning, "and you'd better get used to it."  
  
"I like Asuka-san!" defended the little girl indignantly, and placed her head against Asuka's arm. "Asuka-san, I hope you stay here forever and ever."  
  
Asuka and Misato traded smiles.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
All ready for bed, Asuka sat on her straw mat, with her blanket drawn over her knees and up to her chest as she listened to the sounds of water running from the bathroom.  
  
She reviewed the events of the day in her head. Getting ready by herself. Eating breakfast with Hazuki-san. Receiving Hazuki-san's present. Hazuki- san taking pictures of her. Going home with Misato.  
  
Home, Asuka thought to herself. I have a home now.  
  
And I can stay here as long as I want. Misato-san said so.  
  
The door slid open and Misato, dressed for sleep, stepped inside. She got into her cot and shut off the lights.  
  
"Good night, Asuka."  
  
"Good night, Misato-san."  
  
But long after Misato's snores penetrated the darkness, Asuka was still awake.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
She had put off clearing Asuka-chan's room as long as she could without being scolded by her supervisor. She knew she would miss the girl, and wanted to leave the room like it had been while she lived there was as long as she could. Part of her wanted to believe that the next morning Asuka- chan would be sitting in her bed, as she had been for the last several weeks.  
  
But nine o'clock had come, as she had known it would, and with a sense of dread Hazuki-san pushed open the door and entered, first clearing away the tray of uneaten fruit. That left her with nothing to do but to make the bed and change the sheets. Hazuki-san returned to the hallway and pulled in the cart she had brought along. She paid little attention to what she was doing as she tossed sheets, pillows, and blankets into the cart.  
  
A small colorful object tumbled out from the pillowcase. Hazuki-san caught it before it reached the depths of the hospital cart and recognized it as the notebook she had given Asuka-chan. She flipped it open and inspected its contents.  
  
Each page contained the same sketch, although a definite trend towards clarity showed throughout the book. Hazuki-san's furrowed in confusion as she studied the monster her favorite patient had drawn. There was no doubt about it; despite the arms and legs this was definitely not meant to be a human. Even the eyes sent a shiver down her spine.  
  
Hazuki-san tucked the notebook into the pocket of her hospital gown and continued with her cleaning. Perhaps someday she could get it to Asuka- chan. Then, with a sinking feeling, she remembered that the guilt and regret of missing Asuka-chan's leaving the hospital that morning. She didn't even know where that purple-haired woman lived.  
  
Hazuki-san threw everything into one heap upon the cart and pushed it out, shutting off the lights and closing the door behind her.  
  
Author's Note: Well, there's Chapter 5, and we finally see Asuka out of the hospital. Now, I have a trivia question for you all... from what anime did I get the name of Asuka's nurse's name?  
  
Thanks for reading...as usual, drop me a review! 


	6. Reunion

"Ahh! ECCHI! What was he doing?! Taking pictures of girls in the changing room!"  
  
Misato laughed at Asuka's shocked reaction. "Boys are boys. They never change." She sipped her tea—a weak substitute for beer, no matter how much she tried to adjust—and leaned forward again. "This one was taken right by the track outside your school—and this one by the pool."  
  
Asuka nodded as she flipped through the album of pictures, the majority of which featured a younger redhead. "Who took these?"  
  
Misato leaned back again, a thoughtful expression coming over her face. "Well, he was one of your classmates, and his name was Kensuke Aida. He was obsessed with his camera and took pictures of everything he could, especially you."  
  
Asuka snorted, and Misato half-expected a vicious comment from her. Instead her expression softened gently and she turned the last page. There were no more.  
  
"Why are they here?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"The pictures."  
  
"He and Shinji left together—by that time you were gone already. Kensuke was often here in the last few days before their departure, and he left this book here. I haven't seen him since."  
  
"Oh." Her fingers returned to the left half of the book and turned a page. "Who was this?"  
  
Misato glanced at the album. A fierce-looking Japanese boy, with his hands crossed sternly over his chest, glared at her. A wave of sadness washed over her.  
  
"That's Toji Suzuhara, Kensuke's best friend."  
  
Asuka nodded. Misato wondered if she remembered the incident in Germany, in which Toji had earned himself a slap on either cheek after pulling his pants down in front of the indomitable redhead.  
  
"You said Kensuke left with Shinji. What happened to Toji?"  
  
"He was injured in an accident during some testing with the Evas and died a few months later."  
  
Misato had gradually overcome her fear of frightening Asuka with the blunt truth. The girl had spent the last week craving the truth, searching every nook and cranny of Kaji's house for answers. The former Nerv commander was beginning to regret moving away from her old apartment.  
  
"There are no pictures of me with Eva, Misato."  
  
"Well, Kensuke wasn't an Eva pilot, so he was never allowed into headquarters. He loved all sorts of war and weapons, so he always wanted to be one...he was very disappointed when all his friends became pilots and he never had the chance."  
  
Asuka leafed through the book some more, trying to understand what this boy must have been like. Fortunately she was clothed in the vast majority of the pictures, so this Kensuke Aida must not have been too much of a pervert. She came back to the picture of Toji, wondering what it would take to destroy someone as strong as he must have been.  
  
He looks like a mountain of stone, she thought. Perfectly preserved in the photographic paper, Toji's dark brown eyes glowered at her. Asuka felt almost intimidated, until she noticed someone else in the background.  
  
Her hair was blue and cut short, but it was the expression that surprised Asuka. The girl was looking directly at the camera, but she was not smiling or appearing enthusiastic—the look on her face was one of pure indifference. Almost as if she could see through Toji and past the camera.  
  
"Rei."  
  
Misato jumped at the short word. "What about her?"  
  
"She's in this picture."  
  
Her fatigued muscles complained as she positioned her hand on the armrest and pushed herself up, but Misato said nothing as she got back up and looked at the head Asuka was pointing to. "I never noticed that."  
  
Asuka held the picture up to her face so closely that she appeared cross- eyed. "She looks so...sad."  
  
Rei? Sad? When was that girl ever capable of feeling emotion?  
  
But Asuka continued. "Not the kind of sad that you feel when you can't find something, or anything like that. It's the sort of sad that—" and suddenly she realized why she understood; it was because she had recently experienced the same emotions—"—that your purpose in this world isn't significant; that you're not important to anyone."  
  
That was a horrible way to put it, she thought.  
  
But when Asuka looked up at Misato, her face was contorted with shock.  
  
Misato's mind was whirring. How...how incredibly accurate Asuka had been. She chanced a glance at the redhead's innocently curious face. Had anyone, with the exception of Ikari Gendo, ever given a thought to Rei's feelings twelve years ago?  
  
"If I die, there are replacements."  
  
How much it must have hurt for her to acknowledge that.  
  
"Misato?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Where's Rei now?"  
  
Which one? There are dozens of Reis that you don't know about.  
  
"I don't know," Misato said truthfully. "I last saw her twelve years ago, the last time you and Shinji came home with me from Nerv Headquarters. I expect Dr. Akagi and Commander Ikari took care of her."  
  
"You still talk to Ritsuko, right?"  
  
"Yes, occasionally. She was the one who told me you were back in Japan."  
  
The redhead waved aside that last piece of information. "I'd like to meet her sometime."  
  
It actually might be interesting to invite Ritsuko over. I'll make a proper meal.  
  
"I'll tell her that," Misato promised.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Unknown to Misato and Asuka, hidden deep in the depths of the forest within Kaji's house, unusual circumstances brought together two other former Nerv personnel.  
  
Dr. Akagi was not one to be aggravated by traffic. She left promptly at seven in the morning every day, breezed her way through the streets, and arrived by eight. She labored long hours over new patents and paperwork alike, then went to lunch. A similar afternoon shift would follow, but at seven she would be off, and another hour later she'd be walking up the steps to her apartment.  
  
But she had never seen the usually-quiet streets of Kyoto in such a mess, and even the calm and dignified doctor felt that her fake blonde hair would stand on end if she didn't get out of here soon. Ritsuko tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, a composed expression on her aging face—her forty- second birthday had just passed last week—and applied gentle pressure to the accelerator. The car slid forward just an inch, and the engine whined in impatience.  
  
The next traffic light was so far ahead of her that Ritsuko could barely see it, but she heaved a heavy sigh of relief when the car in front of her slowly began moving again. She glanced at her watch. Already she was forty minutes late. She increased pressure on the accelerator and with some effort, managed to hold it there.  
  
There were only three cars in front of her now, so she'd certainly pass this light. One car hurried across the intersection while the light flicked to a warning yellow. Another car passed, the third following closely on its tail.  
  
Ritsuko made the mistake of flooring the accelerator just as the light flashed red.  
  
Her windowpane shattered instantly in the impact of the crash, showering Ritsuko in broken glass. She hung onto the steering wheel, thankful that she had put on a seatbelt—and attempted to stay in place while her car performed several cartwheels and came to a stop.  
  
Before she knew it, sirens were wailing, but she wasn't sure if those were in her head or outside her car.  
  
What she did know what that the sound of tearing metal scared her.  
  
I've become so soft, she thought, annoyed with herself. Such a little thing would never have unnerved the Dr. Akagi Ritsuko of Nerv.  
  
"Madam? Are you all right?"  
  
Ritsuko waved feebly.  
  
"She's alive!" the police officer yelled over his shoulder.  
  
Twenty minutes later Ritsuko was freed from her totaled car and laid on a stretcher, although she kept trying to get off. Finally the paramedics laid her flat on her back and held her in place with two wide black strips of Velcro.  
  
"I have to go to work," she called out helplessly.  
  
"Ritsuko?!"  
  
"Hey." A burly police officer interfered, holding back the speaker. "She's injured. You can contact her when she's in better condition."  
  
Nevertheless, the young man ran over to Ritsuko's side and asked for the paramedics to wait. His head was only a dark silhouette to the doctor, as she was looking up into the sun when she faced him.  
  
"Ritsuko, is that you?" He was bent over, both hands on his knees, panting heavily.  
  
"Who are you?" Ritsuko asked quietly, closing her eyes to protect them against the sun. Unfortunately this sent the paramedics into a frenzy, thinking that she was weakening. Whoever had been speaking was quickly shunned and pushed aside, and Ritsuko was carried up and into the ambulance.  
  
"I really have to go to work," she mumbled.  
  
Through her closed eyelids she detected a darkening in her surroundings, and when she opened her eyes again she was staring at a blank metal ceiling. People in white robes were bustling around her. Slowly, with immense effort the blonde lifted her wrist high enough that she could see the hands of her watch.  
  
It was nine o'clock. She felt a gentle prick in her left arm.  
  
"I have to go...to work."  
  
The words were hard to pronounce. Ritsuko wondered what was happening, until slowly, she drifted off to sleep.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
She woke to a nurse working on her arm. Instinctively Ritsuko drew her arm away and in doing so, felt a sharp twinge of pain.  
  
"Hold still." The voice was cool and female. "We're not done with you yet."  
  
Obligingly Ritsuko held out her arm and waited until the nurse finished applying the cast, then sat up when the woman backed away. "How long have I been here?"  
  
A glance at the clock. "Almost three hours."  
  
Ritsuko thought of her boss and shuddered as she imagined what he would say when she finally showed up. The sun was nearly overhead by now, shining brightly down on the inhabitants of Kyoto.  
  
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, being careful to use only her right arm, but no sooner had she stood up than the nurse whirled around and ordered that she get back into bed.  
  
"If you're well already, there's an officer waiting outside," she said coldly.  
  
"Well then, show him in," Ritsuko replied in the same tone.  
  
The nurse shrugged indifferently and strode out, her heels clicking rhythmically on the tiled floor. Ritsuko leaned back against the pillows and wondered what she had done to deserve this woman as her nurse. She glanced down at the flesh-colored cast on her arm and wished that she had asked what was wrong with it. On second thought, maybe she would prefer to avoid contact with that woman as much as possible.  
  
The door slid open again and the same police officer who had held the young man back entered. "Dr. Akagi Ritsuko?"  
  
"Yes," she replied.  
  
He pulled over a chair and let the metal legs scrape the tiles as he did so. "You were involved in an accident, at 9:45 this morning?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He pulled out a notepad and a pen. The walkie-talkie on his waist crackled noisily. "Please describe what happened."  
  
Ritsuko got it over with as quickly as she could, omitting nothing. The crash had been obviously her fault, she added, and turned over the name of her insurance company.  
  
"How's your arm?" He gestured to the useless limb resting on her lap.  
  
"I don't know. The nurse didn't tell me."  
  
His lips formed a thin line as he got up, roughly pushing the chair backwards with a screeching noise. "Nurse!"  
  
The harried-looking nurse reappeared. "What is it, officer?"  
  
He pointed a thick finger at Ritsuko. "What's wrong with her arm?"  
  
"It broke...?"  
  
Ritsuko could hardly believe the behavior exhibited by this woman, obviously younger than the police officer—perhaps even younger than she was. The nurse had her eyebrows raised, as if to ask him why he hadn't realized the obvious. The police officer, however, denied her the pleasure of pouncing on his response as he scribbled on his pad.  
  
"That'll be all, Dr. Akagi. However, the young man whose car collided with yours this morning is outside waiting. I believe he'd like to meet with you."  
  
"Officer—" the nurse began, but Ritsuko cut her off.  
  
"Of course, please show him in," she requested. The nurse huffed and exited, almost knocking someone over as he tried to enter.  
  
"Ritsuko."  
  
Ritsuko blinked a few times. Perhaps the effects of the medication were still affecting her. "Shinji?"  
  
Shinji acknowledged her with a nod of his head.  
  
There was an uncomfortable pause, after which Ritsuko added, "Well, don't stand there by the door, come over here and sit down."  
  
Shinji did so, taking the chair previously occupied by the police officer.  
  
"I, uh..." He seemed to be having trouble meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry for uh, hitting you."  
  
"That's not necessary." His eyes flew back to her face, still pretty despite the years. "It was my mistake."  
  
Shinji still felt the need to apologize and Ritsuko sensed it.  
  
"You haven't changed at all, have you?" she asked bluntly. "Forget about it, Shinji, the crash was my fault and I'm covering it. Or rather, my insurance will be," she added as an afterthought.  
  
Shinji considered this and nodded. "How's your arm?"  
  
Ritsuko waved it feebly. "Well, it's broken," she said, trying to make that sound as light as possible. "I've dealt with worse injuries before, though, so not much of a problem."  
  
Shinji's face darkened and Ritsuko knew she had erred. Instead of making him feel better about the crash she had driven him to think of the past, of the injuries she had sustained while working at Nerv.  
  
The loudening clicking of spike heels announced the arrival of the nurse long before she showed up in person.  
  
"That's quite enough," she said to Shinji. "Dr. Akagi, you'll have to fill out some forms, and then you'll be free to leave."  
  
Flustered, Shinji stood up to leave. "I'm... I'm sorry."  
  
"Shinji." Ritsuko's voice was firm. "Wait there." To the nurse, "Where are the forms?" She caught the clipboard and pen thrust roughly at her and scribbled her signature on each page. No one spoke as she got out of the bed and tossed the clipboard back to the nurse. "Let's go."  
  
While Shinji, who was feeling lost and guilty, made it to the door without stumbling, Ritsuko took two steps and landed on the hard floor.  
  
"Uh, are you okay?" Shinji hurried back over.  
  
"I'm fine." She took his outstretched hand with her right and got back to her feet. "I guess I'm still a little dizzy from medication." The doctor glanced at the nurse behind her, who was now muttering feverishly as she inspected the forms. Apparently she had noticed nothing.  
  
"Let's go," she muttered again, keeping a shoulder on Shinji's shoulder for support. As they entered the elevators, she remembered something for the umpteenth time that day. She groaned and lowered her head as she spoke the words again.  
  
"I have to go to work."  
  
Author's Notes: Sorry, this chapter is really rushed and messy since it's Sunday night and I haven't finished homework...anyway, a bit of what's going on for Ritsuko, and Shinji has finally entered the picture...there will be a lot more of him in the future, I promise.  
  
Drop me a review! Thanks so much! 


	7. Back at Misato's

"Hello, Ritsuko."  
  
The doctor stared in surprise at the young man who stood outside her door. Shinji Ikari was not dressed in the white shirt and black pants that he had always worn, shying away from everyone. Instead, he was dressed smartly in a suit and tie with shiny black shoes, carrying a leather computer bag in one hand. He looked her directly in the eyes as he spoke.  
  
"Come in." She stepped aside and gestured to her cramped living room. "If you don't mind, I'll be a few more minutes. Misato will be here any minute."  
  
"All right."  
  
Ritsuko hurried back into her room and hurriedly packed. Misato had called the day of her car crash and invited her over for the weekend. The doctor had apologized and explained that she couldn't get there since her car was totaled.  
  
Misato had offered to come pick her up. Ritsuko thought this over, decided that Misato's driving skills had to have improved somewhat over the last decade, and agreed.  
  
Ritsuko slung the bag over her shoulder and emerged a minute later. Shinji was sitting on one of her squashy armchairs, his bag leaning against the curved wooden leg. He was absorbed in his work, his fingers dancing over the keyboard of his laptop. Only when Ritsuko sat down in the seat next to him did he jump and quickly lay aside the laptop.  
  
"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly.  
  
"That's fine." Ritsuko sat back and clasped her hands together over her knee. They hadn't talked since the day of the crash, and Ritsuko shivered in remembrance—not of the crash, but of her boss's reaction later.  
  
"So, Shinji, what do you do now?"  
  
Shinji blinked and regained his confidence a moment later. "I'm working with Kensuke, actually," he began hesitantly. Then, more eagerly, "Kensuke never lost his love of taking photos. He's the main photographer for a new magazine in America, and I'm... I'm... well, the director of photography."  
  
"Interesting. But who is Kensuke?"  
  
A look of dawning spread over Shinji's face. He seized his laptop and began working enigmatically again, as Ritsuko watched. A moment later he whirled the computer around. The screen showed a smiling, freckled boy with slightly curly brown hair and round glasses.  
  
Ritsuko raised an eyebrow.  
  
"He was my classmate...back then," Shinji finished, somewhat weakly.  
  
Ritsuko nodded then. "I remember Misato mentioning him."  
  
A long pause followed.  
  
"Uh, Ritsuko?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do Misato and Asuka know I'm coming?"  
  
Ritsuko faltered. "I tried to call Misato last night and tell her of our change in plans, but only Asuka was home. She didn't know who I was, and I didn't want to tell her outright."  
  
After all, how could she not invite Shinji? And if Misato had changed as little as it appeared she had, another guest wouldn't make any difference. It was Asuka she was concerned about.  
  
"Will she still hate me?" Shinji asked in a small voice.  
  
"No." The word escaped Ritsuko's lips immediately, but Shinji did not look convinced. "She's been through a lot—no one knows where she's been for the last twelve years—and from what Misato's told me, she's not the same person she was before. But Shinji, tread carefully around her, all right?"  
  
"I will."  
  
Pause.  
  
Ritsuko looked at her watch. "Where is Misato?"  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
The little children crowded around Asuka as they waved to Misato. The purple-haired woman waved back with a "peace" sign, backed out of her driveway, and promptly ran over her flowers. The children groaned.  
  
Misato pulled her tires out of the soggy ground with a squelching sound and rolled down her window. "I'll be back this afternoon, Asuka."  
  
"Drive carefully, Misato," Asuka implored. "You didn't get very much sleep last night."  
  
Misato laughed and shifted her gaze to the kids clustering around Asuka, much like goslings to their mother. "And you kids, be nice to Asuka."  
  
"We will!" they chorused. Misato waved and drove off.  
  
"Asuka-san." One of the older girls, about seven or eight, was tugging on her skirt. "Can we make a cake?"  
  
"We saw Misato-san cooking really late last night," her brother added. "Will there be a big party when she comes back?"  
  
"Well, I'm not sure," Asuka responded hesitantly, but the persistent begging of the children soon won her over. "All right, let's get to work."  
  
With a loud cheer, everyone hurried into the kitchen, with Asuka following in the rear.  
  
"Stop!" a feminine voice called, and immediately the chatter died down. The oldest of them all, a tall-dark-haired girl named Kimie, immediately took control. The boys who had been reaching for flour and sugar stopped in mid- motion, as did several of the younger children, who were noisily dragging a chair across the floor. "Nobody move until Asuka-san tells you what to do."  
  
It feels so strange to give orders—and even stranger to see them obeying, Asuka thought, as she directed the younger children to bring her bowls and measuring spoons while the older ones lifted the bags of sugar and flour up to the table. When all the ingredients and containers had been assembled, the children gathered around the square table. Asuka found a recipe and began to read it.  
  
"Four cups of flour," she read, and handed the measuring cup to the child sitting nearest. "Miki, will you measure out four cups of flour and pour them in?"  
  
Miki got up and cautiously obeyed. The third cup slid from her chubby hand, spilling its contents upon the table. Some of the older boys laughed, and Miki looked as if she were about to cry. Asuka stood up, automatically silencing them, and helped the little girl to pour the last two cups.  
  
It never occurred to Asuka how much faster the cake would have been completed, had she done it herself. She was having fun, helping the children read and measure out ingredients, slowly growing into her role as leader of the clan.  
  
Several hours later the cake finally entered the oven, and Asuka sighed in relief. But before she could even turn around, Kimie yelled, "Makoto, what have you done to your pants?!"  
  
Makoto looked down and stood up. A shower of sugar fell to the floor.  
  
"I'll clean it up," Asuka volunteered. Several of the kids sighed in relief, and all appeared exhausted. "You can go home if you want. You must all be tired from getting up early to say goodbye to Misato-san."  
  
The boys stood up and ran out of the house, but several of the girls stopped to hug Asuka and thank her. When she had seen them all off safely, she returned with a wet rag—only to find that Kimie was already on her knees, scrubbing at the mess of sticky batter.  
  
"Kimie, you don't have to do that," Asuka cried out, both touched and worried at the sight of the young girl cleaning. "It's only eight o'clock. Your parents must be worried about where you are."  
  
"I don't have any," she shrugged. "I'm in charge of Keiichi and Makoto at home."  
  
Asuka remembered the two brothers running off with the rest. "Will they all right on their own?"  
  
"They'll go home with someone else," Kimie assured her. Feeling that it would be useless to argue any more, Asuka got down on her knees and began cleaning up the spilled sugar.  
  
"It must be a lot of work for you," Asuka commented quietly.  
  
Kimie shrugged. "I'm used to it. There's a lot of cooking and cleaning to do, and since there was only me to do it, I grew into it pretty quickly."  
  
Asuka nodded and continued to clean, feeling her face grow hot. In a way she felt embarrassed—after all, Kimie was only a child, no more than eleven years old, and already she managed her entire family perfectly. She reminded Asuka of someone from the past—someone she knew had existed and wasn't simply a fragment of her imagination—but she could not recall either the girl's face nor her name. The redhead passed the next hour scrubbing and rinsing, lost in her own thoughts.  
  
Later, when the girl was about to leave, she suddenly turned around and threw her arms around the redhead.  
  
"I really like you, Asuka-san," she said, "and I hope you stay here forever."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
That damn ring.  
  
Misato groaned and flapped her arm around wildly, trying unsuccessfully to shut it off. Finally she sat up and stretched—she had learned the hard way that sleeping in the driver's seat was not very comfortable. Vaguely she remembered pulling off the main road and turning off the engine in a deserted park.  
  
Her cell phone rang again. Misato picked it up and flipped it open with one hand, still resting her chin on the top of the steering wheel.  
  
"Misato? Is that you?"  
  
Misato pulled herself up to sitting position and glanced at the clock above her car radio. It read 3:49.  
  
"Misato?"  
  
I should have been there three hours ago, Misato thought groggily. Damn.  
  
"I'm coming."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"I'm sorry," Misato said shamefully, several hours later.  
  
"You ought to be," Ritsuko scolded. "Shinji's waiting for nearly five hours."  
  
"Shinji?"  
  
As Misato watched in surprise, the taller, more mature son of Ikari Gendo stepped in front of the blonde. Ritsuko moved aside, enjoying Misato's shocked expression.  
  
"Hello, Misato."  
  
"Hello," Misato managed, and followed it up with, "Are you coming with us too?"  
  
The younger, shier boy emerged from within the businessman. "Is that all right?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Ritsuko and Shinji got into the back of their car with their respective bags and Misato turned the key. She stamped her foot on the accelerator and the car jerked forward. Ritsuko crashed into the front seat and was thrown back a moment later when the car thudded to a stop at the stop sign. Shinji clutched one arm tightly around his precious laptop and threw out the other to keep Ritsuko from flying through the windshield.  
  
"Your driving skills haven't improved at all, I see," Ritsuko commented sourly.  
  
Misato shrugged and stamped on the accelerator again. The car tipped precariously, balancing on the edge of its wheels as it rounded a corner. Misato twirled the wheel wildly and the car landed with a thump on all four wheels.  
  
Ritsuko sighed.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
She had watched the sun slide lazily overhead, then over to the other side of Misato's house, and now it was slowly sinking down over the treetops, casting a warm glow of orange down on the earth.  
  
Asuka sat on the front steps, her feet resting on the step below. Her legs were spread out slightly and her elbows were balanced on her knees, the base of her palms propping up her chin. Beside her, Kimie edged a bit closer and put her head on Asuka's upper arm. Neither of them spoke.  
  
The cake was finished, iced neatly with some sweet concoction Kimie had brewed up. Together they had split a watermelon and decorated the top and sides with the reddest, frostiest centers of each slice. They had taken their time eating the rest of the slices, having competitions to see who could spit seeds farther. Asuka had taken great care to place the cake in the center of the dishes Misato had prepared, feeling as if she were a child Kimie's age.  
  
At last there was nothing to do, and the two resigned to waiting idly.  
  
Asuka was torn between wanting them to show up quickly and wanting them to stall a bit. She was a bit afraid of meeting Ritsuko; in the last month she had spoken to no one but Misato, Hazuki-san, and the children who came to eat watermelons. The very idea of meeting a stranger unnerved her. From Misato's descriptions, Ritsuko had seemed a very down-to-earth person. Asuka wondered if she would be strict, and hoped that she would make a good impression on the doctor.  
  
Thinking of all this, she shivered slightly.  
  
"Are you cold?"  
  
"No," Asuka said quickly, but the younger girl immediately took over her small jacket and draped it over Asuka's shoulders.  
  
I should be the one playing her mother, Asuka thought, touched. Instead she's the one taking care of me.  
  
She extended an arm and took Kimie into her embrace.  
  
"Will your brothers be all right without you for so long?"  
  
Kimie nodded, clearly as content as could be. Asuka let her rest in silence until some thirty minutes later, when the faint hum of an engine grew louder and louder until the old blue car came into sight.  
  
"Misato-san, watch for the—!" Kimie cried, holding up a hand, but to no avail; Misato drove headlong into a small tree and cursed as she backed up. A shower of leaves sprinkled down over her windshield, and she turned on the wipers in an attempt to get rid of them. The back door opened and Ritsuko, apparently having had enough, stepped out of the still-moving car.  
  
"Dr. Akagi." Asuka sprang up and ran over to her, bowing slightly. Ritsuko took her by the shoulder and brought her back up to a standing position.  
  
"There's no need for that." She studied the redhead, who was staring, perplexed. "You're still very pretty, Asuka. You don't look like you've changed that much since—"  
  
"I hope you weren't worried?" asked Misato, stepping out to join Ritsuko. "Sorry, I fell asleep along the way..."  
  
But Asuka was already tuning out Misato's voice and looking at the third occupant of the car. The former pilot of Eva-01 was climbing out of the cramped backseat, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the roof. He glanced up and his dark eyes met Asuka's sapphire ones.  
  
"...Shinji?"  
  
Author's Notes: I apologize for the lateness of this chapter—there will be quite a bit of Shinji in the next chapter for all you Shinji fans. I'm sure you all can guess who Kimie is based on : )  
  
Hmm...nobody seems to know the anime that Hazuki-san's name came from. Here's a hint: It's about a girl with throat cancer who wants to be a singer. (I'll reveal the name next time.)  
  
Thanks for reading and again, drop me a review! 


	8. Discussions

Dinner was a somewhat strained affair for the two twenty-six year olds who hadn't met in over twelve years, but Misato and Ritsuko made themselves at home. Shinji was seated to Asuka's left, and Misato to her right. Ritsuko sat directly facing her. Kimie, the dutiful and understanding girl that she was, politely excused herself and went home to take care of her brothers.  
  
The table was laden with the products of Misato's long hours spent huddled over the stove. Immediately Shinji reached forward with his chopsticks, apparently hungry after the long ride, but Ritsuko hesitated before plucking up a piece of chicken. Misato watched her over the rim of her cup as she sipped, hoping that her cooking had improved somewhat over the years. Perhaps she should have measured before putting in the soy sauce.  
  
But Ritsuko nodded thoughtfully. "It's good." Shinji murmured in agreement.  
  
Asuka said nothing. She felt her face flame within the frame of her red hair. She had been preparing for hours to meet Ritsuko, but Shinji had caught her off guard. There was no way she could have been ready to meet a guy her age, much less one she had mercilessly teased and called "baka" countless times in the past. Yet—Asuka stole a glance at his face—he hadn't shown any signs of apathy nor aversion to her. Slightly ashamed now, she ducked her head down again and wondered why Shinji had chosen to forgive her. She remembered the hurting after she had been subjected to the same treatment and the state it had left her in.  
  
What?  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted abruptly as Ritsuko put down her chopsticks in an attempt to draw the redhead into the conversation. "Asuka, how do you like living with Misato?"  
  
"It's nice." When Ritsuko continued to look at her, however, Asuka was compelled to elaborate. "Oftentimes we sit outside and pick watermelons with the children that live around here."  
  
"Was the girl who was with you earlier one of them?"  
  
"Yes," Asuka replied, a little too quickly, then turned back to her chicken.  
  
Ritsuko propped her chin up on her crossed fingers, her elbows resting on the table as she glanced out the window. "Do you remember the time, Misato, when you and I and—"  
  
Misato suddenly choked on her tea and coughed. She quickly excused herself and hurried off. Ritsuko's sentence was left hanging in the air.  
  
"You and Misato and who?" Asuka asked, always craving more information.  
  
Ritsuko and Shinji exchanged a look that Asuka did not understand.  
  
"Kaji Ryoji," Ritsuko said at last. "This used to be his house, and his watermelons."  
  
Seeing the surprise on Asuka's face, she continued. "You don't know about him?"  
  
Asuka shook her head. "Who was—"  
  
But at that moment Misato interrupted the conversation again as she returned, all smiles now. "Shinji-kun, it looks like you've become quite a businessman."  
  
"I guess so." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm working with Aida Kensuke on a nature magazine in America. If you'd like, I can show you some of his work after dinner."  
  
"That would be nice." Misato drank again. Anything to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.  
  
Ritsuko watched her out of the corner of her eye. How odd it is, she thought, that it's Asuka who wants to know everything about the past, and Misato who is still trying to repress it. She picked up her own cup of tea and drank.  
  
Meanwhile, Shinji reached out with his chopsticks for another piece of celery, just as Asuka reached for her glass of water. The backs of their hands collided and caused the water in Asuka's glass to spill all over her dress.  
  
Both Misato and Ritsuko reached for a napkin as Asuka leapt up, but it was Shinji who managed to hand her a clean napkin first. Their fingers brushed again as she took it with a soft "thanks", and attempted unsuccessfully to dry it off.  
  
"Why don't you go get another dress?" Misato suggested. Asuka excused herself and went upstairs to do so. Shinji, in his fancy business suit and leather shoes, got down on his hands and knees and proceeded to wipe up the rest of the water on the floor. Misato stuck her head under the table. "Shinji-kun, you really don't have to do that."  
  
Shinji shook his head and continued to scrub until Asuka returned, at which point he faced her embarrassedly. "I'm sorry."  
  
"It's all right," she assured him quickly.  
  
The rest of dinner followed with the cake and a slideshow of Kensuke's pictures. The curly-haired boy who was once jealous of not being an Eva pilot had made himself quite a name in the Western Hemisphere, shooting images of rainforests, exotic wildlife, and even some underwater creatures. When Shinji at last shut down his computer, Ritsuko looked directly at Asuka and suggested, "Why don't we all go outside for a watermelon?"  
  
"I'll go get the knife." Misato disappeared into the kitchen.  
  
As Asuka stood up, she slipped on the still-damp floor and flailed her arms wildly. Shinji grabbed one of them in an attempt to hold her up, then drew back when she pulled away, both embarrassed.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said. Again Asuka forgave him, though her face was pink.  
  
There are so many Asukas, the redhead thought, as Misato opened the back door and she stepped barefoot onto the cool, damp soil. Hazuki-san treated me like a patient. Misato treats me as an equal. Ritsuko looks at me as if I'm a little girl. Shinji...seems to act as if I'm a porcelain doll.  
  
And someone in the past treated me like none of these.  
  
Determined to enjoy the moment and not make a fool of herself in front of Ritsuko and Shinji, Asuka selected a watermelon and seated herself on it. Hesitantly Shinji chose the watermelon next to her. Ritsuko was about to sit down on a large, ripe watermelon when Misato grabbed it away and slapped it heartily.  
  
"We'll cut this one," she decided, as Ritsuko set off in search of another watermelon to sit on.  
  
As Misato cut and distributed slices, Asuka glanced over her shoulder and saw several of the young children—including Makoto, hanging on branches of trees in order to peer over the fence. Even as she watched, Kimie climbed deftly to the top, grabbed her brother by the back of his shirt, and dragged him down despite his howls.  
  
Without a glance in that direction, Misato spit out a seed and smoothly asked, "Ritsuko, Shinji, how long will you be able to stay?"  
  
"I'll have to return by the day after tomorrow," Ritsuko said thoughtfully, and then added under her breath, "or I'll be out of a job."  
  
Ignoring the second half of Ritsuko's sentence, "Shinji-kun?"  
  
"Uh, I've actually got two weeks of vacation left," Shinji admitted shyly. "But—"  
  
"Are you thinking of visiting anywhere else?"  
  
"Not really," Shinji confessed. "I'd like to stop by my mother's grave, but that's all."  
  
"Then it's settled, you'll be staying here," Misato closed the matter by spitting out a few more seeds. "And Ritsuko, I'll drive you back to Kyoto Monday afternoon."  
  
Ritsuko closed her eyes as she imagined another four hours in the backseat—with Misato at the wheel. As if reading her thoughts, Misato laughed and reminded her, "You can't complain about my driving. I haven't hit anyone."  
  
Ritsuko snorted. Misato stood up. "I'll go put the knife back."  
  
"I'll help you clean up," Ritsuko offered. Shinji quickly stood up too, but Misato pushed him back down roughly. "You've already cleaned the floor." The two ladies disappeared into the house, leaving Asuka and Shinji alone outside.  
  
The loose strands of Asuka's copper hair fluttered in the gentle breeze. She looked away from Shinji determinedly, not sure what she could say to him.  
  
"Asuka." She turned to face him slowly, and saw that he was smiling. He looked off into the distance, his hands on one knee. "I never thought we'd meet up here. In a watermelon patch." As Asuka laughed softly, his expression grew serious. "Asuka, I understand that you may not want to talk about it, but what happened to you over the last few years?"  
  
As soon as the words escaped his lips, Shinji had to suppress a groan. That was a terrible way to put it. But Asuka didn't even flinch, although she seemed to be thinking deeply.  
  
"I don't know," she said at last. "I remember bits and pieces about Eva, and a little bit about you and Rei. But—" she swallowed hard— "I don't know who, or why it happened, but I can remember someone else. Someone towering over me—calling me names—hitting me—"  
  
Her voice shook and died. She buried her face in her hands. Shinji inched closer, but she slid away as far as her watermelon would allow. With nothing else left for him to do, Shinji changed the topic.  
  
"When we drove up, that girl was hugging you. Tell me more about her," he coaxed.  
  
Asuka's blue eyes emerged from under her forearms and pivoted to face him. "Her name's Kimie," she said quietly, "She leads the children who come to eat watermelons. She has two younger brothers, and no parents. She reminds me of someone, but I don't know who."  
  
She wanted to fall to pieces after hearing her own words. Nothing had ever sounded so stupid. She half-expected Shinji to burst out into laughter, and braced herself for it. Instead there was silence.  
  
When Shinji spoke again, he said, "I know the girl you're thinking of."  
  
Asuka looked at him curiously. "Who?"  
  
"Does the name Hikari Horaki sound familiar?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Tell me," Asuka begged, and rotated on her watermelon so that she was facing him.  
  
"She was your best friend, back then," Shinji began awkwardly, "and our class representative. She had three sisters at home and no parents either, so she took care of everything."  
  
"Shinji?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
How weird it felt to say his name out loud, Asuka thought, but she was focused on her next question. Yes, Kimie might be a younger version of Hikari, but she couldn't even remember what the class representative had looked like—and there was a more pressing isuse on her mind.  
  
"Was Eva really that bad?"  
  
Shinji sucked in a breath as he remembered. "We saved people," he admitted at last. "And we killed people. It was very traumatic at times."  
  
"I remember Misato said that Toji Suzuhara died in an accident concerning the Evas. What happened?"  
  
Is she ready for the truth?  
  
"My Eva destroyed him," Shinji said finally, in a voice overflowing with guilt and sorrow. "His Eva was infected with the thirteenth angel and we had no choice but to destroy it."  
  
"Angel," Asuka repeated slowly.  
  
Shinji shifted the topic. "What do you remember about Eva?"  
  
It came in bits and pieces. "I remember that my Eva was red, and my suit was red to go with it. It was filled with something called LCL..." She drifted off into a private corner of her memory, thinking carefully. "Something called a 'synchronization rate'. Misato and Ritsuko were always there, and they told us what to do. Did we go underwater with it once?"  
  
She remembers that? Does she remember beating me over the head too?  
  
"Yes, we did," Shinji said. "What else do you remember about that time?"  
  
Asuka shook her head. Nothing more.  
  
When Shinji finished telling her the whole story, Asuka looked astounded.  
  
"It seems like a story out of a book," she whispered. Her fingers played absentmindedly with the rough pigtail-like stem of her watermelon. "I can't imagine controlling such a thing. I can't imagine defeating an—Angel—like that."  
  
"It is hard to imagine now," Shinji agreed. "But Asuka, you liked it. You were a wonderful pilot and you were proud of it."  
  
"Really?"  
  
Shinji nodded.  
  
"How did you feel about piloting Eva?"  
  
"I didn't like it at all." At Asuka's questioning glance, he continued, albeit a bit reluctantly. "I piloted Eva 01 almost solely to hear those rare words of praise from my father. He didn't care for me," Shinji said quietly, his gaze dropping to the field of watermelons. "He hardly ever spoke to me. It was Rei who was important."  
  
"What about your mother?"  
  
"She died," Shinji said shortly, then revised his statement. "Well, I guess she didn't exactly die. As it's been put, 'a freak accident' erased her from this world—in short, she disappeared during testing with the Evas. There was no body."  
  
"I'm sorry," Asuka said.  
  
"Don't be." Shinji smiled. "Things were bad then. They've improved since then."  
  
There was a long pause as Asuka recalled what Misato had told her of Ikari Gendo, one of the few people of Nerv who had had more power than she. Slowly she thought of the terrifying being called Eva, and the people that had suffered at it. Toji Suzuhara had died. Shinji's mother had disappeared without a trace. Why did Ikari Gendo put his wife and son in such danger? A shiver crept up her spine to think that she had been in that danger constantly, too.  
  
"Shinji?" Asuka said again. The name escaped her lips as barely a wisp of a sound. This time she was almost afraid to hear the answer to her question.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What do you know about my parents?"  
  
Shinji thought hard. "Nothing," he said at last. "Nothing at all."  
  
Asuka nodded. "I see."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Shrouded in the darkness, Misato and Ritsuko sat cross-legged in front of the window, watching the two silhouettes outside.  
  
"You're still hiding," Ritsuko commented quietly. Misato did not deny it or swing her arm back to hit the doctor, but simply sighed.  
  
"I am," she admitted. "After Nerv disintegrated and I came here to live alone, I thought I could be happy with watermelons and neighborhood kids. With Asuka's arrival, however, everything's changed. She wants to know everything about the past, and I want to suppress it." There was a long pause. "I wonder what Kaji would have said if he were here."  
  
There was a pause in which both women thought of him. Then Misato sniffled and Ritsuko laid her arm around her shoulder.  
  
"It's all right," she whispered comfortingly. Misato nodded.  
  
"You know," she said, pulling her head away and wiping at her eyes, "Asuka keeps asking what happened to Rei."  
  
"Well, I really don't know," Ritsuko said honestly. "After Nerv disintegrated she was left in Commander Ikari's charge. I don't know why, seeing as there was no use for her anymore."  
  
Silence again, as they contemplated what might have become of the blue- haired, shy pilot of Eva Unit 00.  
  
"It's getting late," Misato said, ending the conversation. "I'll go get Shinji and Asuka. We'll come up with a makeshift bed in our room for you, and Shinji can sleep on the couch."  
  
"All right."  
  
Ritsuko remained sitting on the floor, looking out the window. The tall, slender silhouette of Misato Katsuragi picked itself up and made its way out the door.  
  
Author's Notes: Yes, the anime from which I got Hazuki-san's name is Full Moon wo Sagashite—she's the deceased mother of the singer Koyama Mitsuki. Congratulations to all the people that answered correctly (ShadowScythe, sonlee16, jennyjennai, and Dsojourn)! I guess I should add in another disclaimer... I don't own Full Moon wo Sagashite either.  
  
And lastly, I'm sorry about that horrible cliffhanger last time. I promise I'll try to avoid such things in the future! 


	9. Downfall

Over ten years had passed since he'd been here.  
  
It had never been somewhere Shinji liked to be before, for he was never allowed to be alone. During the earlier years of his life the teacher had always accompanied him, making shifty gestures that clearly showed that he was uncomfortable. Throughout the years at Nerv he had visited his mother's grave every now and then—with his father. The thought of his father sent a surge of both annoyance and regret down his spine. Shinji pushed those thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on the few happy times of his childhood.  
  
As brilliant a scientist as Yui Ikari had been, she had loved wildlife and nature as well. He had seen pictures of her hiking up mountains with his father before they were married. When he was old enough to understand, Yui had often taken him into the nearby woods and showed him deer, squirrels, and birds.  
  
How dreadfully he'd missed those days after she died.  
  
Disappeared, not died, he corrected himself. She was part of Eva Unit 01, but regrettably, an Eva was not a suitable substitute for a mother.  
  
Shinji knelt down in front of the tombstone and placed a bouquet of crimson blossoms in front of it, feeling the cold seep through the thin fabric to his knees.  
  
How different life would have been, had she lived, Shinji reflected. How often he had thought that as a child.  
  
But he had made himself a place and a name in the world, and the once cautious and shy pilot of Evangelion Unit 01 had to admit that he was perfectly happy crawling through swamps with his old friend Kensuke Aida, snapping pictures of whatever came into sight. He'd met with many rich and educated photographers and writers in America, and long ago ceased to feel himself inferior to them. His colleagues at work treated him with respect. Shinji Ikari was no longer the weak boy constantly beat and bossed about by a certain redheaded roommate.  
  
Shinji fiddled with the sleeves of his business suit. While he would be happiest in America, discussing their next edition with Kensuke, part of him would always belong here. This particular tract of land—not any random part of Japan, not Misato's home, nor Nerv headquarters would always be special to him. This was the last connection he had to his mother. The only son of Yui Ikari reached out a hand to trace the eroded letters of her name.  
  
She had always wanted him to be happy. Shinji smiled, knowing she would be proud to see him today.  
  
With that thought on his mind, Shinji stood up, brushed the soil off of his knees, picked up his briefcase, and left the cemetery.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"So what's he like?"  
  
Kimie was perched on a chair so that she could reach the tabletop, where she was busily stirring batter for a loaf of bread. Misato had left early in the morning to drive Ritsuko home, and had decided to spend the night there as well—due in part to Ritsuko's cajoling. The doctor had not felt it safe for Misato to drive eight hours in one day, given the occurrences of last time. With only Shinji home for dinner, Asuka had quickly invited Kimie over. At the very least she could act as a buffer between them.  
  
"He's all right. It's hard trying to talk to him," Asuka confessed. Even after they had shared the house for nearly a week, the redhead was finding it difficult to initiate conversations. He remembered everything, and she remembered practically nothing. It was clear that she was thirsting for knowledge, and his interests lay in adding to the cement wall he had built up against the past. "That should be enough, Kimie. Here, pour it into this pan."  
  
She held the pan out with both hands, but Kimie didn't pour the batter.  
  
"Asuka-san," the girl said at last, "shouldn't you hold it over the sink, so that anything we spill will go down the drain instead of on the floor?"  
  
Drawn out of her temporary trance, Asuka flushed and quickly moved the pan.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"You've got lots of things on your mind," the girl commented quietly, indirectly accepting the apology. It was not a plea to hear more about Asuka's life, but the redhead spoke anyway.  
  
"We knew each other when we were just a little older than you," Asuka told her, "and I wasn't very nice to him. Although I don't remember any of it now, he does. Now—" she hesitated for just a moment—"although I know he's long forgiven me for it, I still feel ashamed of what I did, whenever I see him."  
  
To her surprise, Kimie did not offer sympathy. "What happened in the past happened, and we can't change it. Since he forgave you and wants to be friends again, you should take that chance."  
  
Asuka dropped the pan. Batter splattered over the sides into the sink.  
  
"Sorry," she apologized hastily and began to clean. But Kimie was faster, disposing of the mess in a matter of seconds.  
  
"That's why we did it over the sink," she laughed. Seeing Asuka's thoughtful expression, however, she shrugged. "Well, it's always sorted out Makoto's problems."  
  
How mature she is, thought Asuka in admiration.  
  
The rest of the hour was spent laughing over the antics of Makoto and his younger brother while they cooked. By the time the doorbell rang, Asuka had set several platters of food on the table and Kimie was busily slicing the freshly baked bread.  
  
"Something smells good," Shinji commented as Asuka stepped aside to let him in.  
  
Asuka gave a muffled sound of affirmation, then mentally reprimanded herself for not following Kimie's advice. Quickly she led him through the kitchen and to the table, where Kimie gave her an encouraging look. Asuka plunged through the introductions. Then they sat down to eat.'  
  
Kimie kept the conversation going, and Shinji seemed perfectly comfortable in her presence. Asuka, on the other hand, kept quiet despite Kimie's frequent glances in her direction, clearly intended to goad her into the conversation. She could avoid the inevitable no more, however, when Kimie jumped up and offered to clean up. Being the polite guest, Shinji objected immediately, but Kimie insisted and all but pushed them outside into the watermelon patch.  
  
Asuka said, "How was your day?"  
  
Shinji shrugged. "It was fine. I went to visit my mother." At Asuka's sudden glance, he continued, "It's the first time I've ever been there alone."  
  
They each chose a watermelon and sat down.  
  
He had parents, Asuka thought, but they were never really parents to him. His mother disappeared so early and his father completely neglected him.  
  
He's not all that different from me.  
  
"Asuka," Shinji said quietly, "I found out some stuff about your parents."  
  
"Tell me."  
  
Shinji was hesitant. "Are you sure you want to know?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
She was facing him now, her sapphire blue eyes focused intently on his face. Shinji felt himself drawing away. He knew the truth was not what she wanted to hear.  
  
"Your father was never in your life," he said, making it as short and mild as he could, "and we don't know who he was. Your mother died when you were about five or six."  
  
"How?" Her eyes were wide.  
  
But before Shinji began to speak, she remembered—and saw—the past.  
  
"She hung herself. She had been in the hospital for a long time, and—Asuka, are you listening?"  
  
For Asuka had finally broken the glance and turned to look away. Shinji's voice faded, and instead she returned to the German hospital as a child.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
She was wearing a small red dress with a white collar as she stood outside the wall-sized window of her mother's room. The nurses were speaking about her in hushed undertones, yet she chose not to react.  
  
"Everyday, she's like that. She talks to the doll, thinking that it's her beloved daughter."  
  
"She might feel responsible, in her own way. She devoted her whole life to research, and did not spend the time to take care of her own daughter."  
  
"I sympathize with your grief."  
  
I'm not a doll. I'm not that doll in your arms!  
  
"Asuka-chan, Mama cooked your favorite for you."  
  
Look at me!  
  
"If you complain about what you like and dislike, that girl will laugh at you."  
  
I'm not a doll!  
  
Why am I still here?  
  
She doesn't care about me. She doesn't know I exist. To her, I'm nothing but a doll with button eyes and yarn for hair.  
  
Her chin drooped. The scene changed.  
  
"You are so good, my Asuka... you may cry if you wish."  
  
"It's okay." I am stronger than her. I can survive alone.  
  
"I won't cry. I can think for myself."  
  
She stared at the stony words with a defiant glare. Sorhyu Kyoko Zeppelin. 1974 - 2005.  
  
I am not a baby. I will become an adult earlier than other people.  
  
And I don't need a teddy bear.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Asuka!"  
  
To Shinji's immense relief, her head snapped up at his sharp voice. "Asuka, are you all right?"  
  
She nodded weakly.  
  
"You're crying," he said quietly, and reached into his pocket for a tissue. Asuka took it and sniffled.  
  
"I remember." Her throat constricted and she was unable to get any more words out. Not that she really wanted to, either.  
  
He let her cry herself out. As soon as the initial wave of remembrance and sorrow washed over her, Asuka was overwhelmed by shame. What did she think she was doing, crying in front of him? His childhood had not been any easier than hers. Why then, had she allowed herself to falter, while he had succeeded?  
  
There is no one to blame but myself, Asuka thought. She tilted her head back and sniffled, commanding the tears to stop.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered, as soon as she could trust her voice.  
  
"Don't be." Shinji relaxed his gaze on her and stared out into the distance. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you."  
  
"It's fine." A breeze rippled through Asuka's hair and she shivered.  
  
Shinji reached out and patted a nearby watermelon. "Shall we split a watermelon?"  
  
Asuka jumped to her feet. "No, I'm not hungry." The wind blew and she shivered uncontrollably. "I think I'm going to go inside. It's cold out here."  
  
Shinji quickly offered his jacket, but Asuka declined and ran into the warm and toasty house.  
  
"Asuka-san!"  
  
Asuka was calmed by Kimie's simple presence. Here was a girl who didn't know of her tragic past and who didn't care to ask or tell her about it. She breathed heavily, glancing around the well-lit room. There was the table, the bookshelf, the clock, where they had always been. The German hospital faded away.  
  
Kimie took one glance at Asuka's harried face and declined to comment. "I'm almost finished cleaning up," she said smoothly. "You should go upstairs and lie down."  
  
Asuka nodded and did so.  
  
Shinji appeared a moment later, looking none less harried than Asuka. He glanced around frantically, but the redhead was nowhere to be seen. The girl at the sink had an answer for him, however.  
  
"Asuka-san's gone up to lie down," she informed him quietly as she dried her hands on a towel. "She looked like she wanted to be alone."  
  
Shinji nodded, not completely reassured. "Thanks."  
  
Kimie nodded. "I'll be going home now. Tell Asuka-san I hope she feels better."  
  
As soon as the door shut behind her, Shinji made his way around to the room Misato and Asuka shared. The door was closed but a sheet of light shone from the space beneath the door. Inside, he could hear her sobbing.  
  
Shinji raised a hand to knock on the door, but recalled Kimie's advice. Slowly he retreated back to his place on the couch, drew the blankets up to his chin, and drifted off to sleep.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
A loud, retching sound awoke him in the early hours of the morning. Shinji propped himself up on one elbow, then the other. Asuka's room was on the other side of the house, but he could see a faint yellow light. When the noises continued, Shinji crept out of bed and opened her door.  
  
Asuka was bent over the toilet, her hands clutching the edge of the sink. Her feet looked unstable and her legs quivered unstoppably.  
  
"Asuka, are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine!" she cried out in an unusually high-pitched voice before bending over again. Shinji turned his head away as he wondered what he ought to do. Asuka solved that problem for him.  
  
"I'm fine!" she insisted, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she came to the door. Her face was flushed and her eyes bright, framed loosely by her tousled hair. "Go back to bed!"  
  
It was a command, and Shinji obeyed, honestly believing she'd be much better in the morning. He climbed back onto his couch and quickly fell asleep.  
  
It was one of the worst assumptions he'd ever made.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
When she was sure that he'd finally gone back to bed, Asuka washed her mouth out thoroughly to get rid of the acrid taste, then put on a jacket and turned off the light. She certainly had no intention of going back to bed.  
  
Asuka slipped the door open just a crack, but Shinji's snores were already quite audible. She opened the door wider and left. A few more steps and she was out of the house.  
  
How nice the cool night air felt on her warm cheeks.  
  
Asuka began to walk, trying to take her mind off of the tragedies she had just been reminded of. An owl hooted over her head and she paused for a moment to watch its majestic flight into the night.  
  
She walked barefoot through the woods, letting the cold seep through her skin as the briars tore at her clothes. She wasn't scared. She just needed a moment to reorganize her thoughts. Asuka exited the woods and came to the edge of Tokyo-3.  
  
She could see the tall buildings of the city in the distance, glowing various colors from their lights. The streets, however, were quiet and nearly empty, a nice change from the usual day crowd. She wondered who else was awake in the morning.  
  
Asuka continued her trek. She didn't feel the numbing of her feet from the cold, only the heatedness of her cheeks and forehead. The wind had no effect on her anymore. She felt very alone—and oddly, very strong. There was nothing she couldn't do alone. Asuka glanced up, noticing that the lights seemed to blend together into a multicolor haze. Then she stepped into the street.  
  
She never saw the car.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Something jolted Shinji awake and he was deeply irritated for being interrupted twice in one night. Sitting up, however, he realized that the door to Asuka's room was not emitting any light around it—it was open. Her room appeared simply to be a large, dark space.  
  
Asuka never slept with the door open. Confused, Shinji reluctantly got to his feet and went to check up on her.  
  
The first thing he saw was that her blankets were strewn across the room, her closet door wide open, and her favorite jacket gone. Terror streaked through him as he ran to the door, grabbed his shoes, and hurried outside without bothering to put them on.  
  
She was nowhere to be seen outside, but beyond the woods that surrounded Misato's house—Shinji's heart sank—he could make out flashing red and blue lights, and the siren could be heard plainly.  
  
The shoes dropped from Shinji's numb fingers as he took off at a run towards the light.  
  
Author's note: I felt bad about making this a cliffhanger, so I decided to post up two chapters at the same time. Drop me a review and tell me what you think! 


	10. Asuka Alone

She hated the night shift. She hated the loneliness of the empty hallways, the silence of the sleeping patients. Most of all she hated almost drifting off to sleep before being rudely awakened by the shouts that signaled the arrival of another patient barely clinging to life.  
  
Tonight was one of those nights, where the dim lights had quickly sealed Hazuki-san's eyes before a loud shout drew her out of her trance. Annoyed, she shook her head and clamped her hair back, then ran to the scene.  
  
She could hardly believe what she was seeing.  
  
Her first reaction was fury, to lash out at the purple-haired woman who had allowed this to happen. In her heart she had always felt that that woman could not be trusted. The anger dissipated quickly into guilt. She should not have let that precious child go with her.  
  
Asuka-chan lay motionless on a stretcher, an oxygen mask clamped over her face. Her arms and legs were loosely strapped down with wide strips of black Velcro—not that it mattered, since they weren't moving. Her copper hair bounced with the rapid movement of the cart. Paramedics were running along beside her, some yelling out instructions, another opening her eye to shine a light on it.  
  
Hazuki-san put a hand to the girl's forehead. She was hot and feverish. The anger surged back again. Who would have let someone her condition out in the middle of the night?  
  
But this was not her place—at least, not yet. She would not be permitted inside while the surgeons fought to save Asuka-chan's life. Only later, and Hazuki-san shivered—if she lived, would she be allowed to see her through her recovery.  
  
There was nothing she could do now but wait. She hovered by the doorway, watching the paramedics hurry Asuka-chan into the operating room.  
  
There would be no more rest for her tonight.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Somehow—he didn't know how, the last half hour was an utter blur—Shinji had convinced the paramedics to let him on the ambulance, but they had paid no attention to him afterwards. Alone and terrified, he walked in circles around the hospital waiting area, not daring to wander in the direction that they had taken her. His ears were strained from listening, yet he was terrified of hearing the low, flat beep that would signal the end.  
  
He glanced hopefully towards the front desk, but the woman was busy talking on the phone. The only other nurse on duty was sitting in a corner, facing away. She appeared distraught and near tears. He'd seen her hurry towards Asuka when they had first brought her in, but she'd been quickly pushed aside.  
  
He pulled out his cell phone and pressed a tiny elusive button on the side. Immediately the screen lit up to display the following words:  
  
You have no new voice messages.  
  
Shinji fiddled with the buttons using only his thumb, and a minute later held the miniscule device to his ear.  
  
There was only one person he could turn to. Misato.  
  
The phone rang over and over again as Shinji counted in his head. He knew that Misato liked to stay up late—a habit that had often irked him. Why then, was she not doing so the one night that mattered?  
  
Ritsuko's answering machine came on. Frustrated, Shinji hung up, then immediately redialed.  
  
He was greeted by the recording again. In the hope that it would wake one of them up, Shinji strode outside, redialed, and yelled out at the top of his lungs what had just happened. Then he hung up and walked back in amidst stares from the two nurses.  
  
Within ten minutes there was a call from a groggy-sounding Ritsuko, who almost instantly snapped awake upon hearing what had happened, and hurried to wake the still-sleeping Misato.  
  
Misato wanted to hurry over right away, but both Ritsuko and Shinji dissuaded her, not trusting her driving skills in the middle of the night. The call ended with Misato promising to hurry over at daybreak and Ritsuko sending her best wishes and hopes for Asuka. With no one to talk to now, Shinji chose a squashy armchair by the fake fireplace and sat down.  
  
There was no way to describe what he was feeling; he hadn't had this sensation since the days he piloted Eva. Since the day he'd heard of Toji's death. Shinji felt the old wave of sorrow and regret washing over him again. It had been his fault then, and it was his fault now.  
  
His fault that Toji had lost his leg and died so young. His fault that Toji's life had been such a waste. His fault that Hikari had suffered so needlessly afterwards.  
  
And now, his fault that Asuka was—he cringed at the thought—possibly dying.  
  
Shinji realized that his muscles were sore from being so taut in anxiety. He stretched them a bit, then noticed he was attracting even more odd looks from the nurses. He sat still, looking down at the ground. His feet were bare. In the panic of the last hour, Shinji had long since forgotten what he was wearing. He pulled his legs up to his chest and hugged his knees to his body. It seemed like an eternity ago that he, Asuka, and Kimie had been sitting around Misato's dinner table laughing and talking.  
  
If only he'd been sterner, stayed with her to make sure she was all right. He'd known she was sick. Anybody would have known from her flushed face and bright eyes. If only he hadn't been so lenient...  
  
The wait seemed interminable.  
  
Shinji came slowly to realize that the shouts had stopped. He could only think of two things this could mean: either the worst was over, or ... Shinji shivered and cut off the idea mid-thought.  
  
A deep, resonating sound made him jump, but neither nurse reacted. He looked up to see that he was sitting right in front of an elegant grandfather clock. The time was exactly 3:00 AM.  
  
Silence.  
  
Why didn't I stop her?  
  
She wanted to be alone.  
  
But...  
  
Shinji closed both eyes and placed his forehead against his knees, plunging himself into a world of darkness. He thought of Asuka across the years. Asuka before he knew her, at the bedside of her mother. Asuka at her mother's funeral, wearing a glare much too old for her young face. Asuka slapping Toji in Germany. Asuka climbing into his bed. Asuka arguing with Rei. Asuka piloting Eva. Asuka emerging, victorious time after time.  
  
Asuka, her face red and feverish. Asuka, limp on a stretcher.  
  
Shinji gasped for air, both hands clutching at his hair.  
  
He heard sharp rhythmic clicks. A moment later he found a large, worn blanket being draped around his shoulders.  
  
"I'm going to check on her," a voice said, and he turned around to see the older nurse, the one that had been sitting in the corner, standing by his side. "Keep yourself warm. I'll be back soon."  
  
But she didn't. Shinji watched the second hand dally by each black line before hopping to the next.  
  
The clock read 3:10.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Are you sure about this? I could come with you—no, actually I can't—"  
  
"It's fine." Misato cut her old friend off. Ritsuko didn't look convinced, however; Misato seemed to have developed numerous wrinkles overnight and there were deep purple bags under her eyes. She nodded slowly. "Drive carefully. Tell Asuka I'll be thinking of her."  
  
Misato nodded, not meeting Ritsuko's eyes. The blonde stood up and waved as Misato backed into the street. She knew the former commanding officer had been eaten up with worry all night.  
  
Misato remembered Ritsuko's worried face as she pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. She glanced at her watch. It was just past eight. It had taken her just over two hours to make the long drive from Kyoto back to Tokyo-3.  
  
She pulled out her cell phone as she ran, desperate yet fearful of any messages that had come in during the drive. She'd shut it off earlier, not really wanting to know the latest news. The device whirred slowly to life, then informed Misato she had no new messages.  
  
Is that a good thing? she wondered as she hurried in.  
  
The room was deadly silent. No cries of children like last time, no anxious relatives waiting for news of their loved ones. Shinji was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Misato steeled herself, then walked up to the front desk.  
  
"I'm here to see Sorhyu Asuka Langley."  
  
Pause.  
  
The nurse looked her up and down, an odd expression on her face. Had Misato not been so worried, she might have let out a sharp retort. Years of giving orders at Nerv had taught her to expect quick, nimble responses.  
  
Slowly the nurse moved her hand to the computer and clicked twice with one elegant, manicured finger. "Room 355."  
  
She's alive.  
  
Misato moved rapidly towards Asuka's room, hoping for Shinji to look at her with a face of relief, or anything—anyone—to tell her that she was all right. The elevator doors opened to reveal not Shinji, but instead—  
  
Smack.  
  
One hand flew to the cheek that had been slapped, while the other flew out in retaliation.  
  
"What were you thinking?" the nurse ground out. "Letting her out in the middle of the night, in her condition?"  
  
"I—wasn't—home!" Misato retaliated, extremely annoyed now that her cheek was stinging, one wrist was clasped in the fingers of this overprotective nurse, and on top of everything, she was being accused of hurting Asuka.  
  
Shinji turned around just in time to see Misato throw the nurse against the wall before running towards him, one cheek glowing brilliantly red.  
  
"I'm sorry, Misato..."  
  
But Misato only shook her head, brushed Shinji aside with a light motion, and ran to the window where she clutched the windowsill so tightly that her knuckles were white. She looked as if she were going to be sick. Shinji ran to her side, thinking he couldn't handle another woman collapsing on him.  
  
Her voice was weak when she asked, "Is she all right?"  
  
Shinji nodded, and Misato's knees nearly gave way in relief. His next words, however, made her look at him with anguished eyes.  
  
"They let me in to see her earlier. She seemed very upset... she kept mumbling a lot about her mother.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Misato."  
  
Misato looked at him, her eyes filled with bewilderment. "Why?"  
  
"It's my fault... I should have looked after her... I should have made sure she went back to sleep..."  
  
Had the nurse not come up, trembling with rage, and ushered Misato away, she might have lashed out at Shinji. The last thing she needed was him acting like the weak child he had once been.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Come away with me, Asuka-chan.  
  
No. I don't want to go.  
  
Die with me.  
  
Her fingers, armed with nails that hadn't been cut in months, tore at the neck of the poor doll. The head came off easily and soared across the room before coming to a stop at Asuka's feet.  
  
No, Mama.  
  
She turned away.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Mama, they chose me! I'm an elite pilot now. I am the best in the whole world! I must keep this a secret, but I'll only tell you Mama. Everybody's so nice to me now. I don't feel lonely anymore. I'm okay now, even without Papa. Look at me, look at me Mama. LOOK, MAMA!  
  
No.  
  
Her feet came to a stop. Her eyes widened, the smile still plastered across her young face.  
  
No.  
  
Why, Mama?  
  
The scene remained frozen in front of her. Her mother hanging lifelessly in front of her. The tattered doll at her feet.  
  
Why?  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
I don't need you. I don't need anyone!  
  
Leave me alone!  
  
I hate your sympathy. I don't care! Stop telling me I'm a little girl! I will become an adult before other people!  
  
Sorhyu Kyoko Zeppelin.  
  
Why, Mama?  
  
Calmer now.  
  
Silent as the stone bearing her name.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
I'm only interested in Kaji-kun.  
  
Kaji-kun... Ryoji Kaji...  
  
The only one for whom she cared.  
  
The image of a grinning, unshaven man swam in and out of her sight.  
  
Kaji!  
  
You're too young, Asuka.  
  
I'm not!  
  
Those things are for when you're older.  
  
I'm ready!  
  
Kaji-kun's dead, Asuka. Misato's living in his home now.  
  
He's not!  
  
Don't lie to me!  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
We must triumph over Misato and Rei. I must have revenge for my hurt pride.  
  
But Misato's a good person...  
  
Shut up! Leave me alone!  
  
Anger. Hot and red as the color of her hair.  
  
Why did you hate her so much?  
  
Shut up!  
  
I can't take this...  
  
Fading into blue loneliness.  
  
I'm no different from that doll. Ayanami.  
  
Wondergirl.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Stop it.  
  
I can't fight anymore.  
  
Do you hear me, Asuka?  
  
She turned her head as his fist connected with her cheek. A blur of copper. Her hair, unwashed, tangled and tousled, across on her face.  
  
Alone.  
  
He's progressed from human to monster, Asuka. You are alone.  
  
I should never have left Misato...and... and...  
  
Shinji...  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Shinji? Misato? Can you hear me? Can you see me?  
  
I'm trying to tell you something.  
  
Silence.  
  
Your lips are moving. You're talking. But I can't hear you.  
  
I'm alone.  
  
Hear me...  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
With Misato ushered off, promising to return as soon as she got the nurse off of her back, Shinji was left alone again. Through the glass pane he could see her tossing and turning, mumbling words known only to herself. He pressed a hand to the cold glass and lowered his head slowly.  
  
I'm sorry, Asuka.  
  
Author's notes: Now I feel bad for torturing Shinji, but at least Asuka's not going to die... I promise that! 


	11. Awakening

Misato threw the wilting flowers into the trash and poured the yellowing water down the sink. Perhaps Shinji would not be very happy with her for disposing of his flowers, but the blackening heads of the roses had already begun to dip down, bending almost double, and Misato didn't think it was good luck to keep dead flowers in Asuka's room. Cut roses never lived very long, anyway—this bouquet had only been there for four days. Misato crudely arranged the bouquet of spring blossoms she had purchased, making sure flowers of the same color were not bunched together, then returned to Asuka's room with the vase.  
  
Four long, lonely days and four interminably dreadful nights had passed, and there had been little change from the redhead.  
  
Shinji stayed by her side during the day, and when Misato got off from her job she'd come to take over for the night. Apparently Shinji would have had the better end of the deal had he not spent each night pacing and not sleeping. The result was that both were exhausted and felt years older.  
  
As for Asuka, her physical injuries were healing nicely, although the doctors had decided to keep her in the hospital for at least another two weeks, assuring Misato and Shinji that once she woke up they would not need to be there every hour of the day. Both the doctors on her case had agreed that someone she knew ought to be there when she woke up. The tossing and turning had stopped for the most part, but it was an unspoken yet understood fact that she was still going through some heavy mental trauma.  
  
Hazuki-san had quickly offered to drop everything to tend to Asuka, but her request was swiftly blocked. On the occasions that she did come in, Misato sat back and let her do whatever was needed. They had not spoken to each other since Misato's first visit after the accident.  
  
Misato walked to the window on the other side of Asuka's bed and threw open the curtains. The last few rays of sunlight danced into the room, illuminating Asuka's unresponsive face. She placed both elbows on the window and leaned out, remembering the old days in her old apartment. So many times she, Shinji, Asuka, and Pen-pen had sat out on the balcony and watched the sun dip down below the skyline of Tokyo-3.  
  
Speaking of Pen-pen, she wondered where he'd gone. These days she let him wander around the forest, always leaving a window or small door open for him should he decide to return. The children around her neighborhood would recognize him from a mile away—Pen-pen was nothing short of a celebrity in their eyes. Surprisingly he didn't mind all the rough play and dirty hands that came up to ruffle his feathers. Vaguely Misato remembered recently wiping up muddy penguin prints on the floor—or was that Shinji? But other than that, she hadn't seen her precious penguin in several days. A tear fell from one eye as she looked at the unconscious Asuka and thought of how much she would love to have Pen-pen to hold in her arms now. Even if he was covered from raspberry jelly from somebody's lunch.  
  
The sun had gone down in the time she'd spent pondering over Pen-pen, leaving the room a dismal bluish-gray. Misato sighed and returned to her chair.  
  
Another long night had begun.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Shinji-kun!"  
  
Shinji had barely stepped outside when the call came, and he looked up to see Kimie leading a group of little kids. His heart sank.  
  
"What happened to Asuka-san?" Kimie came right up to the back doorstep, her eyes focused intently on Shinji's face.  
  
"We saw the flashing lights from the road," another child added. "Was she in a car crash?"  
  
"Yes," Shinji replied bluntly.  
  
"Is she all right?!"  
  
Shinji sat down, so that he was roughly the height of some of the younger children. "She's alive," he said quietly, but that did little to relieve the fears of the children. "She's in the hospital now. We don't know when she'll be able to come home. Misato-san's with her now."  
  
Several of the younger kids burst into tears. Kimie held them close, one by one, quieting their sobs. Shinji watched in amazement. This girl was a regular Hikari Horaki—perhaps even more talented. An awkward silence followed, punctuated only by the sporadic sobs of children. In the end, Kimie stood up and chauffeured them home, promising to return if Shinji didn't find her presence bothersome.  
  
"No, please do come," Shinji insisted. Anything to keep him from wallowing in fear and guilt.  
  
She returned promptly less than ten minutes later and sat down beside him. Shinji was unsure what he ought to say—could he tell her about all of Asuka's past troubles? Would Asuka want him to do that? Even if she did, this girl was sixteen years younger than him, and he wasn't sure if he would feel comfortable telling her. Kimie, however, solved that problem for him by starting the conversation.  
  
"I don't think Asuka-san would want for you to be this upset, Shinji-kun," she said quietly.  
  
"Why?" Instead of calming him, all the fear, guilt, and anger poured out of the bottle in his heart. "It's my fault she was hit! My fault that I let her escape! MY fault that she's lying in that hospital now! If I had stopped her, Misato wouldn't be exhausted and spending every night by her side! The kids wouldn't be upset and crying!"  
  
Kimie let the rage run itself out before speaking again.  
  
"She was upset," she recalled, more for Shinji's benefit than herself, "and I believe I was the one who told you to leave her alone."  
  
Shinji nodded in response. Kimie's thoughtful features softened.  
  
"She was afraid of you in a way," she continued. "You have to realize that she was slowly digging up parts of her past, and as much as she wanted to know what happened, every piece of information was a threat that it would be—something that she didn't really want to know and would have been better hidden away. I'm sorry," she apologized, suddenly flustered. "I don't know how to word it in a better way."  
  
But Shinji was already visibly calming, so she continued.  
  
"Even the fact that you were a boy worried her somewhat. She said that after waking up from her coma she had had no contact with any boys. And since you knew her in the past—especially after she had made fun of you and hit you many times, perhaps more than she could remember—it was very hard for her to talk to you at all."  
  
Shinji looked at Kimie, surprised. Yes, Asuka had changed; she wasn't flying at him in a rage or yelling at him to cook breakfast anymore; instead she was quiet and shy. He hadn't realized how much guilt she felt for the past, however.  
  
"She would never want to hurt you, Shinji-kun. She wouldn't want you to feel this way. She's not a mean person like that."  
  
Shinji nodded. The few last thoughts were something to ponder.  
  
After a pause, Kimie added, "I'm sorry for intruding in your life."  
  
"No, no," Shinji insisted. Honestly, "The last few days have been really hard for Misato-san and myself. We're very lucky to have someone as understanding as you."  
  
Kimie smiled. "I'd better be getting home now. Makoto has probably gotten himself into trouble."  
  
Shinji nodded and thanked her, watching the heels of her worn shoes sink into the wet ground with each step. Only when she was out of sight did Shinji realized that she had not asked about Asuka's past, or why she had been so upset that night.  
  
Indeed, Misato and Asuka were lucky to have her nearby.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Early morning meant sun. It meant the gentle hum of engines whirring to life on the streets. And for Misato, it meant another day of work after a practically sleepless night.  
  
Shinji arrived perfectly on time to take over, looking more rested and alert than he had been in days. Misato was envious.  
  
They hardly spoke—the usual conversation asking about any changes had grown old. The basic line was that there were none.  
  
Shinji took Misato's seat by Asuka's bed. Something brushed his hair, and he turned to see that his wilting flowers had been replaced by a cheerful bouquet of pink, yellow, and purple spring blossoms. Presumably the work was Misato's, since the flowers on one side of the vase were distinctly taller than those on the other.  
  
He returned his attention to Asuka, who didn't seem any livelier than the day before. However, her tossing and turning had stopped, and for that he was grateful. He closed his eyes and thought of Kimie's words.  
  
He wondered what Hikari would have said, if she could see her old friend in this state.  
  
Shinji shrugged and returned his glance to Asuka's limp body. Her finger twitched, but that didn't concern him—it had happened plenty of times before, usually followed by some involuntary tossing and turning.  
  
But then her hand was moving, as if grasping for something she couldn't see. Shinji stood up, wondering if he should call for a nurse. Then, miraculously—her eyes opened—and they were no longer bright and glassy, but the sapphire blue eyes he remembered.  
  
"Asuka!"  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Shinji?  
  
What is he doing here?  
  
Where am I?  
  
I know where I am. I remember this ceiling, this room, this bed.  
  
He knows who I am.  
  
He knows more about me than I know.  
  
He knows.  
  
Don't make me remember...  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Go away."  
  
And with that she turned away and pulled the blanket over her head, her muffled sobs clearly audible. Shinji was left blinking in shock and hurt, hoping desperately that he had misheard, but her current behavior was enough to tell him that he hadn't.  
  
Surely she'll come out in a minute, he thought. He knew from experience that under a blanket was not a good place to hide.  
  
But she didn't.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Asuka was confused and angry—both at Shinji and at herself. She knew she shouldn't have lashed out at him, but for now she couldn't bear to see anyone that would remind her of who she had been. Shinji knew her past, both in Japan and Germany. She couldn't look at him without remembering how she had hurt him. She was embarrassed of that, and even more embarrassed of what had happened between her and Kaji. Not only that, but slowly she was beginning to remember what had happened in the last twelve miserable years since she'd left Shinji and Misato  
  
She couldn't breathe, but surely suffocating a bit was better than having to face Shinji. Her salty tears soaked the fabric around her as she sobbed and whimpered brokenly, hating herself for doing so and for not having the bravery to face the truth. Once again she came back to admiring Shinji for becoming who he had become.  
  
It's all a cycle, she thought miserably. I admire him, I hate myself, and I become embarrassed of myself.  
  
She heard mingling voices, just barely audible, and wondered who was speaking, although she didn't look. A moment later, she could hear Shinji clearly, muttering in a broken voice.  
  
"I don't know what to do."  
  
The lack of air was suffocating her, the underside of the blanket becoming hot and itchy against her skin. Defeated, Asuka emerged, but remained facing away from him despite his pleading words. Eventually she drifted off to asleep.  
  
She awoke some time later to a tender, feminine voice calling her name. Instinctively Asuka reached for the blanket, intending to pull it over her head again, but something about the voice was enchanting, alluring. Since there was no chance of going back to sleep, Asuka turned herself over, groaning at the pain and exhaustion that still plagued her body.  
  
"Kimie!"  
  
For a moment the ten-year-old was silent, and Asuka realized she must look terrible, having not brushed her teeth or hair in nearly a week, not to mention the various casts and bandages that covered her body.  
  
Asuka asked, "Where's Shinji?"  
  
"I sent him home," the girl replied authoritatively. "He looked like he was in terrible shape."  
  
The guilt came rushing back.  
  
It's my fault for speaking to him like that, after he's probably been sitting here all day.  
  
Kimie stood up and helped to prop her up with some pillows, so that she looked more comfortably rested despite her low spirits.  
  
"How're you feeling?" she asked quietly.  
  
Asuka paused. "Well, everything hurts," she said, trying for a bit of humor and failing miserably. "Although I feel much worse about hurting Shinji."  
  
Silence.  
  
"He told you, didn't he?"  
  
"Told me what?"  
  
"Everything." The tears came then, streaming down her face in rivers, as much as she wanted them to stop. "How I used to abuse him, how my mother died, what I did with—"  
  
"Stop it." The words were soft, yet firm. Kimie took Asuka's hands in her own and waited for Asuka to cry herself out. "He didn't tell me anything, Asuka-san."  
  
How grateful she felt as she absorbed the words.  
  
Makoto interrupted the scene by coming up and rudely pushing Kimie aside. "Asuka-san, I brought you some flowers."  
  
As the redhead managed a smile through her tears and thanked him, the understanding expression on Kimie's face faded slowly into one of suspicion. "Wait..." Three confused faces looked up at her. "Makoto! You picked those flowers out of Misato-san's garden, didn't you?"  
  
There was an uncomfortable pause in which Makoto attempted futilely to look innocent.  
  
"I did!" he burst out, and would have begun crying had Asuka quickly not quieted him.  
  
"They're lovely, Makoto," she complimented him, smoothing back the muddy roots that jutted out from each stem. "And thank you for saving them. I'm sure that Misato would have run them over trying to drive if you hadn't brought them to me."  
  
The young boy's face brightened. "We got to play with Pen-pen yesterday," he explained proudly. "We played blocks, and he was the big bad monster that knocked down our castle."  
  
Kimie winced as she imagined the horrible treatment Pen-pen must have suffered while playing his part. When she opened her eyes again, Makoto was in front of her, and somehow Asuka's hand had transferred from hers to his.  
  
"Asuka-san," he begged, his eyes pleading with her, "please, please, please come home to us?"  
  
Pause.  
  
"Yes," Asuka said, "I will."  
  
Author's Note: Short chapter... and I realized one very stupid mistake I made: In chapter 4 Misato thinks about the nights she spends sitting outside with Pen-pen...and I haven't mentioned him since! Sorry about that...  
  
Anyway, drop me a review and tell me what you think. 


	12. Shinji Leaves

Asuka closed the door behind her and turned the lock with a satisfying click. Slowly she turned around to reveal her reflection in the dimly illuminated mirror. Her hair resembled a fireball, and the rest of her body was none the better. The redhead noticed a small package of amenities wrapped in clear plastic. On it were large green letters: SANITARY.  
  
She tore it open and pulled out the plastic comb, slowly working it through her unbrushed hair. Perhaps after getting home she would cut it—then it wouldn't take so long to organize.  
  
When she emerged nearly thirty minutes later, arms sore from the battle against her hair, Hazuki-san was waiting outside for her.  
  
"I should have given this to you last time." She held out a familiar notebook. A few loose green pages embroidered with cherries fluttered to the ground, each covered with pencil scrawls. Quickly Hazuki-san bent and picked them up, folding them back into the notebook as she murmured, "Gomen, Asuka."  
  
Asuka took the notebook into her hands silently, her eyes downcast.  
  
"Thanks," she said sadly at last.  
  
The nurse looked up at the grandfather clock solemnly. "He should be here soon."  
  
Asuka nodded, not lifting her head. She had said He. So it was Shinji who would be coming.  
  
"Would you like me to accompany you?"  
  
"No." The words came out before she was ready, but as the nurse nodded in calm understanding, Asuka decided it was the correct choice. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life in and out of the hospital.  
  
The past doesn't matter, she thought to herself. I just have to be ready to face the future.  
  
Hazuki-san nodded toward the door, suddenly mute, and Asuka saw the source of her sudden silence: Misato had arrived in her blue car, the left half of which was tipping off the side of the road.  
  
Asuka waved, then turned back to her nurse.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
The nurse shook her head and just smiled.  
  
She watched as Asuka-chan ran outside through the sliding glass doors, the notebook pressed tightly against her chest with both arms. Hazuki-san sighed. It was so hard to be a nurse sometimes. Time after time she watched patients leave, wishing that she had more time to get to know them, but not wanting to prolong their suffering by seeing them return to the hospital.  
  
And Asuka was no exception.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Misato greeted Asuka as she got her, her light frame aiding slightly to balance the car. "Hey."  
  
"Hi, Misato," Asuka replied. They were several miles down the road before Asuka dared to ask the question she'd been pondering.  
  
"Where's Shinji?"  
  
She'd shortened and reworded the question, instead of bluntly asking, "Why didn't Shinji come?" Shinji had not come to visit since the day she'd blown him off, at least not that she knew of.  
  
"He...had other things to tend to," Misato replied, and Asuka did not question further.  
  
Misato pulled into her driveway a short time later, followed by the excited screams and yells of the children. They had been waiting at the nearest corner, their arms laden with balloons and flowers, and chased the car as it made its way up to the old wooden house. Asuka could barely open her door without pushing someone over. Misato got out of her side, which was devoid of cheerers, and promptly cleared the children away so that Asuka could get out.  
  
She was bombarded with children throwing their arms around her and their flowers into her arms. Feeling very moved by their love, Asuka took time to thank each child for their flowers and balloons; by the time she had finished, Misato joked that there were enough balloons to carry her up into the air when she held them all.  
  
Kimie fell into step beside her as they made their way to the house, having wisely stayed out of the way while the younger children had their turn with Asuka first.  
  
"Welcome back, Asuka-san," she said, smiling.  
  
Asuka tried to hug her and ended up spilling flowers all over her head.  
  
"Kimie," she asked quietly, after all the children had somehow gotten into the house (the situation had resembled trying to force many grains of corn into a narrow bottle opening at the same time), "Where's Shinji?"  
  
Kimie blinked and turned away, apparently afraid of revealing something.  
  
"You'll see."  
  
Her words only increased Asuka's trepidation to the point where she was hesitant to enter the house. When her foot finally crossed the threshold that marked the beginning of Misato's wooden floor, the house was deathly silent.  
  
Asuka stopped, but Kimie's small hands found her back and pushed her into the kitchen.  
  
He was standing with his back to her, bent over the counter. From the back she could see that he was wearing Misato's apron, tied crudely—one side seemed to droop much more than the other.  
  
He wasn't speaking to her. He wasn't even bothering to look at her or welcome her back. The hurt she had inflicted upon him rebounded to hit her tenfold.  
  
"Shinji?" she whispered quietly.  
  
He stiffened, paused, then stood up straight and slowly turned around. In his hands was a large cake in the shape of Asuka's head. It was not a birthday cake and no candles were on it, but Shinji's face needed no firelight to brighten the smile on his face.  
  
"Welcome home, Asuka!"  
  
Asuka could only gape, as Shinji laughed with the children at her surprise. There was her head, the red hair taking up the majority of the space, and her features smiling up at them as Shinji placed it on the table. His eyebrows knotted suddenly, and all the children hushed as he asked, "Who made Asuka's other eye black?"  
  
Everyone burst into laughter, including Asuka herself. One eye was constructed out of blue frosting, but the other one was indeed black.  
  
"All right, let me through." Misato came through with a knife and sliced up the cake deftly. "Who wants Asuka's nose?"  
  
Before long, all that remained was a wisp of sugary hair and the lower left quadrant of her face, and Kimie was kept busy wiping frosting off of Makoto's shirt. The boy grabbed a fistful of clean shirt and wiped his mouth. "Asuka-san, you and Shinji-kun are coming to play with us tomorrow, right?"  
  
Misato glanced at Shinji sharply, then looked away.  
  
"Of course I will," Asuka smiled, having missed the glance. Shinji, on the other hand, looked a bit apprehensive. The redhead turned to him, worry washing over her young face. "What is it?"  
  
"Well...my two weeks are up," he mumbled. When she continued to look confused, he added, "I'm scheduled to head back to America tomorrow morning."  
  
"No! Shinji-kun, don't leave us!" the children cried. Shinji smiled sadly.  
  
"I'll try to come back from time to time and visit," he promised.  
  
Asuka was silent, her eyes cast down. Shinji freed himself from the cries of the children and looked at her with concern in his deep blue eyes.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked.  
  
Asuka nodded, glancing up and forcing a smile on her face. Kimie once again took charge upon noticing that Shinji still looked worried, and began to ferry the children off to their respective homes.  
  
"But I want more cake!" Makoto shouted, his little shirt nearly bright red from the frosting.  
  
"Makoto! Stop that!" Kimie scolded. Shinji, however, shook his head and absentmindedly pushed it towards them.  
  
"Take it home. I can always make another one."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes... yes... take it..."  
  
Misato went to the kitchen and came back with a roll of clear wrap, then packaged up the cake and placed it in Makoto's sticky hands. Kimie turned to Shinji, bowed, and wished him a good trip.  
  
"It was very nice to meet you," she said politely. Shinji gave both of them a hug (when Makoto backed away, there were two red handprints on the back of Shinji's white shirt); then Kimie led her brothers home.  
  
Misato crossed her legs in front of her, using her arms to support her weight. "So you're really leaving tomorrow, Shinji-kun?"  
  
"Erm... yeah," Shinji replied, feeling very tongue-tied all of a sudden.  
  
The purple-haired woman shifted to one side so that she could use her free hand to brush back a stray lock of hair. "Any idea when you'll be coming back?"  
  
When. Not if.  
  
"Maybe Christmas," he replied.  
  
When that failed to stir a conversation, Misato sat up fully. "I know this is Asuka's homecoming night, but it's also your last night in Japan. Shinji, why don't you decide how you want to spend it?"  
  
"I don't have any ideas," he mumbled a bit too quickly, but when he saw Asuka's expression, he quickly changed it. "I want Asuka to be happy."  
  
Misato smiled in the darkness, glad that Shinji couldn't see her or he would have blushed redder than Asuka's hair. "Then, Asuka, what do you want to do?"  
  
"I want for all of us to go outside and split a watermelon," she responded smoothly.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Misato stayed only a short while. She ate her share of the watermelon, then told Asuka and Shinji that she was tired and needed to catch up on sleep if Shinji intended to live through her drive tomorrow. However, that was only half of the truth: she wanted Shinji to have some time alone with Asuka before he left early the next morning. Misato groaned inwardly at the idea of getting up at three.  
  
Shinji did just that, but Asuka wasn't responding much.  
  
She had to apologize to him before he left, she knew. The thought frightened Asuka; she avoided looking at his face and chose to focus instead on a pebble by the watermelon serving as her seat.  
  
"Shinji?"  
  
She spoke his name against her knees, and he missed the sound altogether. Asuka steeled herself and tried again.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Shinji swiveled around slowly, so that he could see her face. "For what?"  
  
"I... I yelled at you... that day."  
  
Shinji stared at her incredulously for a moment.  
  
"I'm sorry," she repeated.  
  
She was both confused and relieved to hear him chuckling softly.  
  
"It doesn't matter," he said earnestly. "I don't blame you at all, Asuka. If anything, it's my fault for letting you go out there."  
  
Asuka shook her head no, just happy that she had told him the truth—and that he wasn't angry with her. The world seemed to brighten up, then darkened again as she realized he was leaving tomorrow.  
  
Shinji was having similar thoughts. If only he didn't have to leave... He glanced at Asuka again and saw her looking sad again, despite her earlier smile. He was going to miss her so much.  
  
He leaned closer, advancing slowly, ready to plant a soft kiss on her temple. Asuka didn't notice, still deep in thought... there were now only a few inches between his lips and her head—he could see the moonlight glistening on each hair—but she hadn't moved—  
  
"Ack!"  
  
Asuka jumped, giving Shinji a faceful of hair. "What was that?"  
  
"What?" Shinji asked, suddenly afraid he'd hurt her although he hadn't even touched her.  
  
"That." Asuka pointed to the dark woods, and sure enough, a soft rustle followed. "Can we go inside?"  
  
"Of course." They hurried inside, Shinji lingering on the doorstep to glance backwards.  
  
The woods were now silent.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
The words escaped Keiichi's lips as a muffled, whispered scream.  
  
"MAKOTO!"  
  
"Sorry," the younger brother apologized, but drew only a frustrated sigh from his companion.  
  
Keichii, several years older, stepped a bit closer, cleverly avoiding any twigs that were liable to snap. He reached out and pulled aside a branch, revealing the glowing lights of Misato-san's house. "They've gone inside," he muttered. "Nice job, Makoto."  
  
"I can't see—"  
  
But what Makoto couldn't see, they never did find out. More crackling leaves made both of them jump and alerted them to the presence of a third person.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?!"  
  
"RUN!" Keichii yelled, and the two set off at a run towards their home, Kimie chasing at their heels.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Goodnight, Asuka."  
  
"Goodnight," she replied softly. She wanted to know what time he would be leaving the next day, but perhaps that would be too direct.  
  
Shinji concentrated on her sapphire blue eyes, then looked away. "I'll miss you," he said at last, then quickly added, "Hopefully I'll see you again soon."  
  
I'll miss you too.  
  
The words welled up in Asuka's throat but she choked them back, not yet ready to say them to him. Instead she nodded, looked at him for what seemed like an eternity before blushing and disappearing into her room. The door slid shut behind her.  
  
Shinji, on the other hand, found paper and pencil and roughly scribbled a few words in Japanese, then shoved the note under Misato's door.  
  
Asuka wasn't in the mood to shower or even brush her teeth. She turned off the light and crawled into bed, trying to block Shinji's face out of her mind.  
  
Perhaps I should have just told him.  
  
Shyly, stealthily, she crept out of bed and slid open the door. But Shinji was already gone, his snores clearly audible from the living room. Asuka shut the door again and returned to bed.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Misato jumped awake at the alarm, then punched the sleep button. Why the hell is it ringing now? It's still dark out!  
  
Shinji. He's going to be late!  
  
Misato jumped out of bed and stumbled towards the doorway. Her left foot landed on the note Shinji had left; when she tried to walk, the paper slid across the carpet and she fell, hitting her head against the wooden door.  
  
I'll kill whoever put that there, she grumbled.  
  
Misato fumbled in the darkness for a table lamp—when the room was sufficiently illuminated, she held the note close to her eyes. It read:  
  
Don't wake Asuka.  
  
Misato figured that she was probably awake from the blaring alarm clock and the unnaturally loud sound her head had caused when it made contact with the door, but after she dressed and went into the hallway, she could hear no sound from Asuka's room.  
  
"Misato-san." Shinji was already dressed, his bags packed and ready. "I made breakfast."  
  
Misato stumbled to the table, still unstable on her feet, sat down, and began to wolf down the food. Exactly twelve minutes later the fork fell from her hand and the former Major made her way outside, feeling a bit better now.  
  
It was still night outside, various stars blinking in the dark sky. An owl hooted in the trees and Misato shivered. Even after watching Angels disemboweled on a near-daily basis, she did not like the idea of birds that tore other animals to bits before eating them. She lowered herself into the driver's side of the car and closed her eyes while Shinji loaded his bags into the back.  
  
They hardly spoke all the way, mainly because Misato was half asleep and Shinji just hoped that they wouldn't hit something along the way.  
  
"Youreallylikerdunyou?"  
  
"What?" Shinji asked, startled at the string of incomprehensible words. Misato pulled into a parking spot, yawned, and repeated, "You really like her, don't you?"  
  
Shinji flushed. Misato smiled. "Sorry, didn't mean to embarrass you."  
  
"I thought I might write to her," Shinji started shyly, "but I didn't know the address." He reached into the back of the car and began pulling out his bags.  
  
Misato waited patiently while Shinji produced a pen and paper, then scribbled down her address. "She'll be glad to hear from you, I know," she said quietly. "Take care, Shin-chan."  
  
Shinji nodded. "You too." He slammed the car door shut. "Misato-san, thank you for everything."  
  
Misato smiled. It was suddenly very hard to let Shinji go, and she regretted not having spent more time with him in the days he was here. The harsh words she had spoken to him while Asuka was in the hospital—if she had bothered to acknowledge him at all—came back to hurt her.  
  
"Come back to us soon, Shinji."  
  
Shinji nodded and glanced at his watch, tilting it in order to catch the moonlight. "I've got to go," he said. "Bye, Misato."  
  
He's all big and grownup now, a businessman, Misato thought proudly. Shinji Ikari walked with his back straight, one bag hanging over his shoulder and the other sliding along smoothly on wheels, the handle in his other hand. Upon reaching the door he turned around and waved one last time, then disappeared into the airport.  
  
Misato came back to her car and fell fast asleep then and there, cramped in the driver's seat.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Asuka was the luckiest of the three that day. When she woke, the sun was up, and light was streaming in through her window. What was not so pleasant, however, was the dry, bitter taste in her mouth. She crawled up from her cot on the floor and noticed a piece of paper on the floor. It was in Misato's hand.  
  
Dropped Shinji off at airport. Gone back to sleep.  
  
He's really gone.  
  
The thought made Asuka want to crawl back into bed—and she would have done so had a small glint of gold beside her bed not caught her attention. She gasped in surprise—it was a gold locket, in the shape of a tiny heart—and had her name cut across it diagonally, the letters in cursive. Beneath it was a note.  
  
Asuka,  
  
I picked this up a few days ago. I thought you would like it.  
  
Shinji  
  
Asuka read it once, twice, and then again before flipping it over, hoping for some more words from him. There were none. She held the locket up to the light again.  
  
"Liar," she whispered. "You didn't just pick this up." Her name testified to the fact that he had specially ordered it—and furthermore, that he cared for her.  
  
The clasp was intricate and nothing like Asuka had ever seen before. One end was cut to look like a maple leaf, while the other had a loop that could be opened. The end with the maple leaf was slid through and the loop closed. The maple leaf would then keep the chain from sliding out, ensuring that the two ends stayed together.  
  
Asuka place it around her white neck and ran to the window. Outside a group of children were running and chasing a ball, when one of them stopped and pointed to the sky.  
  
"Airplane!" he yelled.  
  
Asuka followed his gaze and saw the elegant shape gliding through the sky.  
  
Perhaps Shinji's on that plane, thinking of me now.  
  
Author's notes: Added a bit of romance... well, maybe more like a lot of it. And I have to apologize for the terrible description of the clasp on Shinji's locket; I have a similar necklace but don't know how to describe it. Anyway, drop me a review... thanks so much to everyone who's done so! 


	13. Starfruit Ice Cream

She loved the jingling of little golden bell on the door of the ice cream parlor as she opened it. Asuka turned and waved to Misato, who smiled before pressing down on the accelerator. The blue car shot out of sight.  
  
"Ohayoo, Asuka."  
  
"Hey," Asuka greeted Madoka, her fellow employee, who was already busy at work adding sugar to her latest batch of ice cream. She glanced at the clock. There were still thirty minutes until they were due to open. Asuka sidled over to her friend. "Do you need any help?"  
  
Madoka paused and looked up, her face pink from the exertion of stirring the mixture by hand. "Would you mind writing up today's special on the board?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Asuka donned a dark red apron and crossed the black-and-white checkered floor to the east wall, where a large dry-erase board was hanging out of her reach. She stood up on a chair and pulled it down, removing the markers and eraser located conveniently at the bottom.  
  
"What's the special?"  
  
"Starfruit."  
  
Asuka paused in erasing yesterday's special and looked up at Madoka. "Starfruit ice cream?"  
  
"Yes, I did some experimenting yesterday and it came out quite nice. Come over and I'll get you some after I finish making this."  
  
"All right."  
  
Five minutes later the board had been replaced, now bearing the words "Today's Special: Starfruit" in strawberry pink kanji. Asuka had packaged and frozen the new batch while Madoka made a starfruit cone for Asuka. The redhead licked it tentatively, then took a bigger bite and let the fruity taste spread over her tongue.  
  
"It's good," she complimented. Madoka smiled, her anxious features relaxing. Asuka took another lick and added, "Akamatsu-san is really lucky to have you working here."  
  
Madoka blushed, her dark shoulder-length hair contrasting with her pink cheeks. She was pure Japanese, twenty-one, and a student at Toudai University who worked during the summer to pay for her tuition. Asuka liked her; she was witty, accepting, and an avid ice-cream lover. The fact that Asuka was five years older than her made no difference; after all, Asuka had only started working here three weeks ago, and she had been here for several months.  
  
Asuka, on the other hand, had finally gotten tired of staying home with nothing to do every day while Misato was at home; plus, it was nice to have something to do with her hands again. She'd passed the "Help Wanted" sign outside the nearby ice cream parlor while shopping with Misato, and had come back the next day to apply. Madoka had quickly accepted her as a close friend, and the boss, Akamatsu-san, had kindly entrusted her training to the Japanese girl. These days Asuka washed tables, swept the floor, and helped to sell and make ice cream—her favorite part.  
  
Madoka knew little about her and asked little; she herself had a baseball player boyfriend who would stop by every now and then to grab a cone and give his girl a hug. Seeing the two together would inevitably make Asuka pine for Shinji; she would usually excuse herself to make more ice cream in the back room, whether it was needed or not. Madoka knew only that there was a potential guy for Asuka currently living in America who had given her the gold locket she always wore.  
  
Asuka finished off her ice cream and unconsciously put a hand to the locket, teasing it in her fingers. Misato had found a picture of Shinji and shrunk it so that it would fit in the heart-shaped bauble.  
  
The bell jingled as a mother and three hungry kids walked in despite the "closed" sign, bringing Asuka out of her thoughts. Madoka smiled and greeted them warmly. The youngest replied with a wail that resounded against the walls.  
  
The mother glanced at the fresh words on the board. "Starfruit ice cream... that sounds good. I'll take seven."  
  
Madoka's eyes grew wide, but she didn't say anything as she keyed in the order. Asuka hurried to the back and made seven starfruit ice cream cones, bringing them to the front two at a time. Several minutes later, the mother herded out her children, each silenced by a twin pair of cones. In one hand she held her own, licking freely now that the kids were no longer bothering her.  
  
"We're not really due to open for another fifteen minutes," Asuka chided.  
  
Madoka smiled mischievously. "I couldn't help but feel sorry for her, with all those kids. Hopefully they'll quit bothering her for awhile."  
  
Asuka smiled. She could always count on Madoka to be sweet and compassionate. However, at that moment the door jingled again as a tall, muscular baseball player swaggered in. Asuka muttered an apology about peach ice cream and hurried to the back, one hand pressed over the locket.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"I'm home."  
  
"Welcome." Misato was at the stove, stirring and tasting as she worked. A wonderful smell drifted from the pot to Asuka's nostrils as she kicked off her shoes.  
  
It was still odd to come home after a day of work, for several reasons. She'd always been the one cooking dinner when Misato or Shinji came home. She'd never wanted to kick off her shoes and eat—then sleep—and get up and do it all over again. And she'd never felt so satisfied with her life.  
  
She thought of the calendar in the room she shared with Misato and reminded herself to cross off the date, although there was no need—the page was covered in large red X's. Days she'd spent thinking of Shinji. Days that had been devoid of news from Shinji.  
  
She ate her dinner slowly, savoring the taste, washing away the flavor of starfruit. The ice cream had been an instant hit; Madoka had had to make several more batches before the morning was over. Even Akamatsu-san declared he'd never seen the parlor so full; children were sitting on the floor and the line stretched a good distance outside. Asuka offered him a cone; he pronounced it the best ice cream Tokyo-3 had ever seen. Madoka was planning to package it and sell it by the gallon, if she and Asuka could ever keep up with the demand.  
  
It wasn't the money that made Asuka happy, although the income she brought in did lessen the stress on Misato a bit. She loved the excitement of lunchtime and early afternoon, when children were hot and tired from playing, and she loved the smell and taste of freshly made ice cream. Most of all she liked knowing she was useful and that her work was productive.  
  
When she came home, however, her thoughts would turn to the small family she belonged to: Misato—and Shinji. She knew he had asked Misato for her address, had wanted to write, but there had been nothing. Asuka comforted herself each night hoping that perhaps he had written but the letter had been lost. Or maybe he couldn't read Misato's handwriting—far more likely, given that she had written it in the dark and was half asleep. Anything was better than the thought that he had simply not written—and she shivered—forgotten about her.  
  
"Misato," she said smoothly, putting down her fork, "there wasn't anything in the mail, was it?"  
  
Her voice was cool and composed, the words indirect, but Misato knew what she meant. She'd been asking every day since his departure. Sadly she shook her head. Asuka nodded acceptingly, then turned back to her meal.  
  
Misato watched her sharply, wondering as well why Shinji had not written. It was well over a month since had left; surely he could have at least informed her that he had arrived safely. Perhaps he needed a little prodding, she thought mischievously. Those thoughts faded quickly as she realized she hadn't bothered to ask for his address.  
  
The doorbell rang.  
  
Asuka excused herself and went to go get it. Kimie was at the door, with Makoto and Keiichi. She called for Misato, who quickly cleared up and brought out a knife. Then the five went to the backyard for watermelons.  
  
"These stupid watermelons are growing faster than we can eat," Misato complained. "Sometime I'd like to have a backyard that's actually flat and not filled with green lumps."  
  
Kimie, Makoto, and Keiichi laughed, but Asuka only smiled. She knew Misato would never get rid of the watermelons; it was practically all she had left of Kaji. She knew now whom those masculine clothes in the back of the closet belonged to.  
  
"We tried to stop by for ice cream," Kimie told Asuka, "but there were so many people that we didn't have time to stay in line."  
  
Asuka told her about Madoka's new experiment. Makoto's eyes grew wide and he asked, "What's a starfruit?"  
  
Asuka attempted to explain but the boy failed to understand how any fruit could look like a star. Keiichi, however, noted that Misato was looking wistfully at her field of fruit, and asked, "Asuka-san, have you ever tried making watermelon ice cream?"  
  
"No," Asuka was forced to admit, a smile blooming over her face, "but I believe I will tomorrow!"  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Madoka's eyes were wide as saucers. "Asuka," she stammered, "What are you doing?"  
  
Asuka's face was red as she breathed heavily, hauling in a cartload of watermelons. "I thought we could try for watermelon ice cream," she said, smiling happily.  
  
Madoka smiled too. It was early in the morning and the sun had just barely risen, but already she was at work mixing up more starfruit ice cream. Several crates of starfruit lay stacked in the backroom. "I'm afraid it'll have to wait until we can keep up with this starfruit demand, Asuka—it looks like people are lining up outside already."  
  
"ALREADY?" Asuka flew to the front counter, her fingers grasping the edge. "But—but—we don't open for another two hours!"  
  
Madoka shrugged, but her delighted grin showed her pleasure at their success. "I don't remember seeing him yesterday, either," she said thoughtfully. "News must be traveling fast." She sliced up another starfruit, peeled and seeded it, then threw the slimy pieces into a wide bowl. Asuka mixed eggs and cream and sugar, then poured it over the fruit. Madoka blended them in the old fashioned ice-cream maker—nothing could make ice cream as good as that old machine, which Akamatsu-san claimed had been a wedding present. Asuka emptied the finished product into gallon-sized buckets and placed them in the freezer. The cart of watermelons lay to the side, forgotten for the time being.  
  
"Maybe we should open a bit earlier today?" Madoka voiced her concerns. Asuka glanced at her watch; it was still thirty minutes early. She told this to Madoka. "But that poor man's been standing outside for an hour and a half!" the Japanese girl cried.  
  
Asuka shrugged. Madoka held off for another twenty minutes, then opened the door. A healthy crowd of people began to stream in. Among them were a tired Kimie and a bouncy Makoto.  
  
"He declared that he wasn't going to sleep until he got some of that ice cream," Kimie muttered, yawning. "I don't know where he gets his energy from."  
  
Asuka laughed and gave him an extra large scoop. His eyes grew wide as he tasted the sweet tangy flavor. "I want another one!"  
  
"Finish yours first," Kimie instructed as she took hers from Asuka's hands. "Thank you, Asuka-san."  
  
Asuka would have liked to chat, but the small parlor was echoing with booming business, and she had to hurry to tend to the next customer. Madoka came out of the room once, but Asuka shouted for her to keep making more ice cream, and she soon disappeared into the backroom again. Several hours later she emerged again, this time to relieve Asuka—it was time for her lunch break. Gratefully Asuka made her way into the backroom, her fingertips sore from hitting keys over and over again. Upon closing the door behind her she noticed the watermelons.  
  
Asuka bit into her apple as she sat down to think. She had helped Madoka many times to make ice cream, but never gone through the entire process herself. It couldn't be that hard, could it?  
  
Before Asuka knew it, she was slicing watermelon and picking out seeds with the tip of her knife. Juice and red frosty flesh went into the bowl; alone she mixed cream, eggs, and sugar, heating them as needed, then pouring it over the watermelon.  
  
She was faced with a problem. There was far too much; it would not all fit in the ice cream machine at once. She would have to make two batches, perhaps three. Already her arms were tired; usually this part was Madoka's job. Asuka glanced in the corner and was pleased to see that there were still four empty buckets. Carefully she lifted the heavy bowl and poured into the open top of the ice cream machine. Asuka recapped the machine and began to crank, checking periodically to see if it was done or not.  
  
It did take three batches to empty the bowl of watermelon and cream—and she had only cut one watermelon—but by then Asuka had gotten the hang of the machine, and she was pleased when she discovered the ice cream to be done the first time she checked. Now all that was left was to freeze it.  
  
Asuka finished cleaning up and ate the rest of her lunch quickly. Madoka appeared to bring in more ice cream, and the redhead offered to take her place.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
The sun had almost set—Madoka knew it was almost time to close up, but the crowd hadn't seemed to dwindle since the moment they had opened. Asuka had gone shopping for more heavy cream. She excused herself and ran to the backroom to bring another batch of starfruit ice cream.  
  
She paused thoughtfully in front of the freezer, its cold air biting her skin. There seemed to be more ice cream than she remembered. Perhaps she'd made more than she'd thought. Madoka suddenly felt grateful for the work she didn't remember doing; it would mean less work later. She grabbed one bucket and hurried back, apologizing for the delay.  
  
"It looks awfully pink," the boy commented, looking a bit apprehensive. Madoka assured him that it couldn't have gone bad, as she had just made it that morning—and made him a fresh cone. The boy licked it once, twice, then three times—and suddenly pumped his fist in the air, shouting, "It's watermelon!"  
  
"Watermelon?!" Madoka exclaimed. The boy's mother bent down and took a lick. Her eyes widened as she stood back up. "I'll have another one of those... and a gallon of it to go, as well."  
  
"A gallon..." Madoka's voice trailed off as she keyed in the order.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Madoka had closed up, ushered the final customers out, and was cleaning up melted ice cream when Asuka came in through the back door, carrying two large jugs of cream.  
  
"Sorry," she apologized.  
  
Madoka threw aside the mop and started to laugh. "For what? I believe you've found a flavor to topple starfruit."  
  
Asuka stood in utter incomprehension for several moments. Her apology had been to account for her tardiness—but—Madoka must have found the watermelon ice cream!  
  
"Oh no!" Asuka cried out. "It hasn't been refrigerated long enough! Are you sure it was ready to eat?"  
  
"We sold out in less than six minutes," Madoka informed her. "I think we have a new specialty to add to our board."  
  
Some of the fatigue lifted from Asuka's arms as she climbed up to remove the board. In large green characters she added "Watermelon."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"I'm home."  
  
Misato glanced over her shoulder, a knowing smile on her face. "Hey, Asuka—"  
  
Asuka cut her off rather rudely. "Sorry, Misato. I think I'm going to skip dinner and go straight to bed tonight, if that's all right."  
  
"Sure," the purple-haired woman answered, deciding not to tell Asuka what else she was missing out on. She'd appreciate it more when she was fully relaxed.  
  
Asuka sank onto her cot and slept. She didn't know when she woke up, but when her eyes opened again the room was dark and Misato was spread out on the cot beside her. Her throat was unusually dry. Asuka got out of bed, being careful not to wake Misato, and made her way to the kitchen.  
  
She turned on the light, squinting at the brightness and placed one hand on the counter as she reached up with the other for a glass. Instead of the smooth, glossy wood she expected, Asuka's hand sensed paper. She glanced down to see a thick package whose stamp indicated it had come overseas—from America!  
  
Asuka grabbed the package and held it close to her face. The return address was unfamiliar, but the name at the top was: Shinji Ikari.  
  
She tore it open and the contents fell to the floor. Asuka knelt down to pick it up, expecting a letter or photographs—but certainly not the magazine she found.  
  
The front cover portrayed a large water bird with pinkish wings and a spoon- like bill, which Asuka did not recognize. She opened to the first page and found that the picture was of a "Roseate Spoonbill", and the image was credited to Kensuke Aida.  
  
She remembered then—Shinji was the editor of a magazine for which Kensuke took pictures. Asuka flipped back to the cover and admired the grace of the large bird, despite its clumsy beak.  
  
But why had Shinji sent her a magazine?  
  
Asuka shook it; no letters fell out. The envelope was empty when she checked.  
  
There was nothing to do but return to the magazine. On the second page, however, was something that made her gasp.  
  
It was a photograph of her. She was standing on the front steps of Misato's house, gazing off into the distance. When had he taken this, without her noticing? Asuka peered closer and noticed a small row of letters at the bottom: the picture was credited to Misato Katsuragi!  
  
"Misato?"  
  
But the photo did not cover the page. A long, typed letter in English spanned the rest of the page. It was a letter to her. And at the bottom was Shinji's signature.  
  
Asuka wished her English were better—she had not exercised it in a long time—but nevertheless she read through the letter easily several times. He had arrived in California and missed her. Throughout the letter he mused about the experiences they had shared, and regretted that they could not have spent more time together. Asuka read through the last few lines several times—he was inviting her to America!  
  
"I hope that someday you'll be able to come to California for a visit," the letter read. "There are so many things here that I would like to show you. The next time we meet..."  
  
Asuka was crying, smiling at the same time; her happiness and sadness clashed and blended as she held the magazine to her chest and fumbled with the locket again.  
  
He remembered me. He's thinking of me. He wants me to come to see him.  
  
Asuka wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and lay down on the kitchen floor, wanting to savor the moment. Several minutes later she was fast asleep, a happy smile blossoming on her face, the magazine clasped tightly in her arms.  
  
Author's note: A very odd chapter... I felt like this one revolved more around starfruit ice cream than Asuka and Shinji, sorry about that. Asuka's found something to do with herself for the time being, and Shinji's settled back into his life while still keeping her in the front of his mind.  
  
Last time I was asked if I happen to hate Rei. While I don't hate her, Rei has never appealed to me as much as Asuka; I don't think I could ever write a fic with her as a main character because I can't think in her mind at all. However, I do have a few plans for Rei in this fic, towards the end...  
  
Thanks for reading! Drop me a review if you'd like. 


	14. To America

"You're going to _America?_ Asuka, I'm so jealous!"  
  
Madoka was beaming at her, a wide smile gracing her face as she worked rapidly in the backroom. Asuka brought her another watermelon and waited, her hands folded on top of the fruit.  
  
"_Madoka,_" she chided.  
  
"It was so romantic of him to invite you in his magazine, where everyone could see it," Madoka mused dreamily. The handle cranked under the pressure of her strong hands. "How long will you be staying?"  
  
"About a week." Misato and Asuka had considered the length and decided seven days to be appropriate. "I don't want to become an inconvenience to him, especially in America...I hope my English is good enough."  
  
"I'm sure you'll be fine. Don't worry about it."  
  
Asuka smiled. "It's time to open," she said, more to herself than her companion, and ran to hurry the door. Already the line was forming.  
  
_I couldn't leave Madoka alone to run this place for much more than a week, anyway_, Asuka thought. She pushed the door open and the crowd outside began slowly to dissipate.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Misato held up the skirt, waiting eagerly for Asuka's approval. It was pale blue and pleated, covered with a pattern of mosaic-like pieces. The redhead took it from her hands and considered.  
  
"Try it on," Misato urged. "And here..." she plucked a blouse off of a nearby rack— "let's see how this will go with it."  
  
Asuka dumped both pieces of clothing into the increasing pile in their shopping cart.  
  
"I'll try everything on after we're done looking around," she insisted.  
  
She had not been shopping in what seemed like—and really was—an eternity. Apart from her job, and an occasional visit to the city now and then with Misato, Asuka had not left the protective place she called home. Misato had bought clothes for her or she had worn Misato's, it didn't really matter. There was no one to dress up for; after all, Kimie and Makoto couldn't care less what she wore.  
  
Asuka had been sincerely surprised at the amount of clothing in the department store. There were so many styles and fashions, each made in many different patterns and types of cloth. She had wanted to run around and examine everything, but eventually submitted to Misato's better judgment.  
  
"We need to get you a nice evening dress," Misato was saying. "Maybe something black and strapless... come on, I see something of the sort over there."  
  
Asuka tagged alongside the purple-haired woman, who looked like a girl shopping for her first prom as she dug through the dresses.  
  
Misato, too, had given up the excitement of shopping years ago. With Asuka and Shinji gone, there was no one to shop for. Who would she dress up for, now that Kaji was dead? The last time she could remember being happy about a purchase was when she had bought that purple dress for a wedding—that of a bride and groom whose names she could no longer remember.  
  
She held up the gown for Asuka's approval.  
  
"Misato..." Asuka whispered, holding it up limply, "I don't know where all these straps go..."  
  
Misato's fervor was not dampened in the least. "I'll show you later," she said cheerfully, and pushed the cart along.  
  
"Shouldn't we go try them on now?" Asuka questioned. The pyramidal pile was overflowing and several garments were in danger of falling over the side. Misato glanced at it, considered, and finally agreed.  
  
Unfortunately for them, there was a limit of eight garments per room—which meant Asuka had to make many more trips than she would have preferred. Misato waited outside beside the mounting pile of fabric as bypassers gave her odd looks. After each she had tried on each outfit, Asuka would step out, and together they would decide whether or not to buy it. Slowly a much smaller stack of feasible clothes began to appear.  
  
"All right, you can't put it off any longer," Misato grinned, holding up the black dress. "Go try it on."  
  
Asuka, who had been attempting futilely to shove it to the bottom of the pile, groaned. "I don't understand how..."  
  
Misato abruptly shushed her, whirled her around by the shoulders, and pushed her into the dressing room. Five minutes later Asuka emerged, appearing very elegant and classy.  
  
"You look nice," Misato told her honestly.  
  
Asuka shifted uncomfortably. "There's way too much skin showing," she mumbled, coloring as she attempted to hide some of it. "There isn't even a back!"  
  
While Misato attempted to fix that problem, a second dress caught Asuka's glance.  
  
"Oh, Misato, look at this..."  
  
It was strapless, although slightly more covering than the backless style—and was made out of a silky, dark aqua fabric with matching sequins strewn across the upper half. Misato opened her mouth, ready to tell the redhead that it would clash horribly with her hair, but bit back her words when she saw the excitement on Asuka's face.  
  
She had to admit she was surprised at the results. If anything, Asuka looked gorgeous—a girl any man would be proud of. The redhead stepped out barefoot, smiling broadly, and twirled in the mirror.  
_  
I never knew shopping was so much fun,_ she thought excitedly.  
  
Misato, on the other hand, was busy imagining Shinji's face when he saw her. This was _it_, she thought, everything about the dress screamed Asuka's name—  
  
"How much is it?"  
  
Asuka picked up the tag hanging off of the left sleeve—and blanched. Misato leaned over and felt her face turn a similar color.  
  
Asuka shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Even if I got it, I'd only wear it a few times in my life." She disappeared back into the fitting room, leaving Misato alone to her thoughts. Ten minutes later they emerged carrying four shopping bags, among which were the black dress, the pleated skirt, and the matching top.  
  
The green dress remained on the rack.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
She couldn't have hoped for a better reaction from Akamatsu-san. The old man seemed quite overly pleased, wishing her well and promising her own ice cream machine if she and her man "decided to get hitched". After much blushing on Asuka's part, Akamatsu-san wished her good luck yet again and promised her that her place in the ice cream parlor would always remain there for her.  
  
She shared a last special moment with Madoka as they mixed the day's final batch of starfruit ice cream, which Madoka insisted she take home to share with Misato.  
  
"Take lots of pictures," Madoka urged. "Not only of... Shinji..." the name was still slightly unfamiliar on her tongue—"...but of the scenery too."  
  
"I will," Asuka promised. A car honked outside. Asuka picked up the bucket of ice cream and gave Madoka a quick hug. "Bye."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Misato was up and on the phone with Shinji an hour before her usual waking time, wanting to catch him during an appropriate hour. Unfortunately, due to the different time zones, she could never be sure exactly where he was. He happened to be in a meeting, and she could tell he was none too pleased at being interrupted.  
  
However, his tone immediately changed upon hearing about Asuka.  
  
"You'll be there to meet her?"  
  
"Yes." Shinji paced around outside, thinking of the huge airport. "LAX is a pretty big place. I'll be meeting her right outside the gates."  
  
Misato ran over her mental checklist and decided all was fine. Asuka was packed and ready to go, so Misato cut off the call and opened up the backseat. Together they heaved her heavy suitcase into the back before climbing into the front.  
  
"Are you nervous?" Misato glanced sideways at her companion before swerving to avoid hitting a stray cat. The animal meowed angrily and scurried away.  
  
Asuka's hands were clenching tightly in her lap, fiddling with the strap of her carry-on. She forced them apart and replied honestly, "A little... I haven't traveled alone by myself at all."  
  
Misato nodded. Even she had never been to the United States; she had only visited Germany. On each of those trips she had traveled in a special Nerv jet. Nobody at Nerv had ever traveled in a commercial plane before.  
  
She noticed the blank expression on Asuka's face as the car pulled into the airport, and attempted to reassure her. The redhead nodded, the expression on her face not changing.  
  
"I'll be with you every step of the way that I can, and Shinji's waiting at the other end," she promised.  
  
Asuka smiled slightly at his name, something that Misato did not miss.  
  
Misato checked in her luggage and completed everything else for Asuka with little difficulty, while the redhead sat on a hard wooden bench and looked around. There were announcements going off constantly, each sending a flurry of people hurrying towards the security lines. Asuka watched curiously as each person placed his or her bags on a conveyor belt and walked through a doorframe. Occasionally it would beep and a light would flash red; then all would stop as the person was required to undergo a security check.  
  
"All right, we're all ready." Misato's voice broke harshly into her thoughts. "Let's get in line."  
  
When her turn came, Asuka dutifully placed her bag on the conveyor belt and walked through the door anxiously. Nothing happened.  
  
Misato, on the other hand, managed to set off both the alarm and light. The security officer drew her aside and ordered her to stand with her arms and legs apart as he swept over her body with some sort of detector. Asuka caught Misato giving him a disdainful glance and laughed.  
  
The mechanism began to beep around her hips. Misato reached into the seemingly-flat pockets of her jeans and pulled out a set of metal keys. When the other pocket set off the beeping as well, she produced a handful of coins. Several more metallic objects made their appearance before the officer declared himself satisfied and set the purple-haired woman free.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Flight 284, from Tokyo-3, Japan, to Los Angeles, California, is now boarding."  
  
"Do you want to get on now, or wait a little while?"  
  
"It won't leave without me, will it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then I'll wait."  
_  
No need to stand in that long line,_ Asuka thought. She glanced at Misato and noted that she appeared calm and serene—was that a trace of sadness in her eyes?  
  
It seemed like no time had passed at all before Misato stood up and shook back her thinning sheet of purple hair. "Let's go, Asuka."  
  
Reluctantly the redhead followed. Behind her a young child pushed his brothers around and a small fight erupted—resulting in that one was thrown against the back of Asuka's legs, knocking her down.  
  
"Just hope they don't have a seat near you," Misato muttered out of the corner of her mouth, as the mother burst into apologies.  
  
All too soon it was time for Asuka to face the future alone.  
  
Misato gave Asuka a hug and made her promise to email every night. "And call me as soon as you get there," she added.  
  
Asuka smiled bravely. "Bye."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
_Misato looked like she was about to say something to the flight attendant taking tickets,_ Asuka mused. _I wonder_ _what it was_.  
  
Thankfully, the noisy children (and their unfortunate mother) were situated in the back of the plane, but even there Asuka could hear their wails. She was seated by the window and kept her gaze focused outside. So far she had watched three airplanes take off from Narita International Airport.  
  
The seat beside her was still empty. She wondered if anyone would come to occupy it.  
  
The answer appeared to be negative, for the people in the aisles eventually thinned out and the flight attendants came around to check that everyone had their seat belts on properly—yet no one took the seat beside her. A few more announcements followed in Japanese and English—Asuka repeated the English words quietly, trying to get used to the feel of the language.  
  
And then the plane moved. Asuka glanced out the window and instinctively brought one hand to her locket.  
  
_Here I come, Shinji._  
  
Author's notes: Or rather, apologies this time. I can't think of anything to describe this chapter other than a filler—the product of my writer's block. It's a bit late too—sorry!  
  
If I'm not mistaken, LAX stands for Los Angeles International Airport.  
  
Also, a few other notes I forgot to mention this time... both Madoka and Akamatsu-san's names are derived from Wakamatsu Madoka, also from Full Moon wo Sagashite. She's supposed to be an evil character, but I like her anyway.  
  
And lastly, I remember reading somewhere that ice cream makers are supposed to be good wedding presents. Not quite sure where, or if it's actually true...  
  
Anyways, drop me a review and tell me how I'm doing. 


	15. In California

Shinji caught his breath as the redhead appeared, standing out distinctly in the throng of dark-haired Japanese. She was dressed in a red windbreaker and white shorts, glancing around distractedly with a bag in one hand. A moment later she noticed him and broke into a wide smile as she ran towards him.  
  
"Shinji!" she called out, then restrained from throwing herself into his arms. Shinji took the bag from her hand, flung it carelessly into a nearby seat, and pulled her into his embrace.  
  
"I've missed you," he whispered, in English. Asuka repeated the words after him.  
  
They left the terminal and made their way out through the gift shops, where Shinji bought Asuka a little airplane shaped key-chain for her bag. He walked quickly, carrying her bag, and she had to hurry to keep up with him. Judging by his clothes, Asuka reasoned that he had just left from work. Shinji was wearing a black suit and his shoes clicked softly with every step on the tile floor. She trailed behind him as he picked up her suitcase, striding confidently out of the airport and into the heat of the Californian summer.  
  
Shinji stopped suddenly in the parking lot, causing Asuka to slam into him from the back. From one pocket he pulled out his chain of keys and held up one piece with a small series of buttons, his thumb positioned over the first. "Press this one."  
  
Asuka complied. A nearby car's lights flashed on and then off, emitting a beep.  
  
"Is that your car?" she asked in wonder.  
  
Shinji laughed. "Isn't it so much better than Misato's?"  
  
Asuka thought of Misato's old car, with fading paint and worn out wheels, and laughed with him as he tossed her bag and suitcase into the trunk. She climbed into the luxurious passenger seat as Shinji started the engine and turned on the air conditioner.  
  
"I notice you're wearing the locket," Shinji added.  
  
Asuka reached for it affectionately and held it tightly within her hand. "Yes," she admitted, then shyly, "I've never taken it off."  
  
The corners of Shinji's mouth turned up slightly.  
  
At the next red light he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a cell phone, handing it to Asuka. "You'd better call Misato and tell her you've arrived, or she'll start to worry."  
  
Asuka was surprised to see that Misato was already in his address book.  
  
When she returned the phone to him, Shinji was full of plans. "I have most of the week off, but Kensuke's been talking about wanting to meet you," he told her. "One of my coworkers is holding a dinner party at his house on Thursday, so I expect it'll be then. I figured that tomorrow we could go to SeaWorld, if you're up for a long drive—it'll be about three hours—and Tuesday I'll have to work, but Wednesday—"  
  
"Shinji," Asuka murmured, putting her hand over his timidly, as if he might shy away from her touch, "It's all right. We have time."  
  
"But you're leaving in a week," he said quietly. "I want to make the most of it."  
  
"I do too," Asuka added.  
  
The orange Californian sunlight cast a soft glow on their faces. Asuka turned to look at Shinji. His eyes were focused on the road ahead, his wrists occasionally giving a sharp little movement to steer the wheel.  
  
Shinji caught her staring and gave her a little smile. Slightly embarrassed, Asuka turned to her window.  
  
"There are so many trees," she remarked, shading her eyes against the sun. "It reminds me of Misato's house."  
  
"I thought that too, when I came back from Japan. Except there are so many more here. And a lot less cars," he added.  
  
Asuka nodded. "Whenever I head off to work, the city is always full of cars and blaring horns."  
  
"You work now?"  
  
"Yes... do you remember the ice cream shop Misato took us to?"  
  
"Yes!" Shinji exclaimed. "That place had the best ice cream in all of Japan... if only I had some that now...damn this heat..."  
  
His words drew another laugh from the redhead. Shinji had never heard anything so pleasant in his life. He reached over and toyed with a lock of her hair, promising himself that he would draw her into his arms the first chance he got.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
She hated touching the green button marked with a large black triangle, one acute angle pointing upward. Having been a doctor for so many years, she did not like to touch dirty things, and an elevator button did not count as "clean" in her book. Ritsuko bent her finger and pressed it with her knuckle.  
  
Nothing happened. The glass ring around the button did not glow orange, as it usually did.  
  
She pressed it again, to no avail.  
  
Ritsuko's brow furrowed.  
  
_Just my luck._  
  
She took the stairs instead, lifting her legs slowly, one step at a time as her knees cracked.  
_  
Damn, I feel old._  
  
It was relief that she finally reached her flight of stairs and pushed open the door—to see the elevator door opening and two small children emerging.  
  
Ritsuko swore.  
  
Several minutes later she shoved her key into the keyhole and twisted it before pushing open the door. From the kitchen came sounds of sizzling oil. Suddenly wishing she had a gun, Ritsuko hesitated and flattened herself against the wall.  
_  
Surely if someone was here to rob me—or kill me—they wouldn't bother to take time_ cooking, w_ould they?_  
  
_Clang._  
_  
That was most certainly someone dropping my pot._  
  
Moved by her curiosity, Ritsuko shifted away from the wall and tiptoed towards the kitchen.  
  
"MISATO!?"  
  
"Hey, Ritsuko." The purple-haired woman turned around slightly, one hand still busy stirring the sizzling contents of the pot. "Had a good day?"  
  
The blonde shook her head as if to clear her mind. "What are you doing here? No wait, first—how'd you get in here?"  
  
Misato smiled slyly, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a set of keys.  
  
"You left these at my house last time," she reminded. "I wanted to see how long it would take for you to notice... except apparently you never did."  
  
The blonde turned promptly red. _Damn, I _am_ getting old._  
  
Misato waved a spoon heartily. "Ready for dinner?"  
  
The blonde blanched instead. Misato gave the pot a final stir, then spooned out the contents into two bowls and handed one to Ritsuko, who drank in the warm scent hungrily without bothering to find out what it was.  
  
"Where's Asuka?" she asked, following the former Commander into her own breakfast room.  
  
"She's off visiting Shinji in America."  
  
"What? You let her fly to America alone?"  
  
Misato smiled as she sat up. "Eat up, Ritsuko, while I fill you in on the details—you need it. And when you're done, I've brought a gallon of the most delectable ice cream in Japan."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"This is your house?!"  
  
Shinji was amused at her reaction. They had driven over a drawbridge, passed the huge letters reading "HOLLYWOOD" on the famous mountain, and she was most impressed by his house?  
  
Asuka marveled at the splendor of it. Shinji's house was set in a tiny corner of Los Angeles filled with trees and meadows, so rural that she expected to hear cows mooing. Instead there was only the tranquility of pure nature and a bird flittering overhead.  
  
His house resembled a large cottage nestled away in a jungle of trees and ivy, built with white walls and natural brown roofs. The windows were cozy and inviting. A little path paved with stone guided the way to the door, and Shinji took Asuka's hand as he led her into the house.  
  
Her first reaction was that they must still be outside—it couldn't be so bright inside. Upon closer inspection, however, Asuka noticed that there were indeed no fancy lamps on; two-story high windows adorned several walls, allowing the sunlight to stream in. Everything was green, ranging from the jungle green sofa to the jade counters in his kitchen. As if there wasn't enough foliage around his house, Shinji had also placed pots of hanging plants and small trees at strategic locations around the house.  
  
He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Like it?"  
  
"It's gorgeous," she whispered.  
  
Asuka was embarrassed to notice he was carrying both her bag and her suitcase. "I'll get these up in your room for now," he insisted, when she tried to take over. "Feel free to wander."  
  
Helpless to stop him, Asuka obeyed.  
  
The green furniture provided a nice contrast against the pure white walls, Asuka thought, as she took off her white sandals and placed them neatly against the glass door. She took one tentative step onto the carpet and almost giggled. This was nothing like the worn floor coverings of Misato's house; the carpet was thick and fluffy and gave Asuka the impression of walking on clouds. She tiptoed over to the main living room, then stared up in amazement at the sight that had awaited her.  
  
Over the fireplace—and a very large one it was, too—was an enormous oil portrait featuring younger versions of herself, Shinji, and a girl she recognized as Ayanami Rei, apparently on their way from or to school. The girls were carrying black leather suitcases and Shinji was wearing a two- strap backpack over both shoulders. The difference, however, was in how they walked.  
  
She was skipping, leaning forward slightly with a confident smile, holding the suitcase behind her back with both hands.  
  
Shinji was walking evenly, both arms hanging in relaxation at his sides, his mouth open in mid-sentence.  
  
Rei was taking small steps, her stance held back slightly and accentuated by an expressionless face, the suitcase handle held securely in her right hand.  
  
Three distinctive ways to walk, describing the unique personalities of three utterly different people.  
_  
I wonder where Shinji got this,_ she thought, as she continued to stare up at it, marveling at the massive size of the work. Asuka sensed the presence of another human being and turned around to see Shinji leaning casually against the wall, watching her.  
  
"Where did you get this?" she asked.  
  
"Misato took the photograph," he explained quietly, "and a few years ago I had a painter transform it into an oil painting." Shinji stepped closer until he was right in front of the fireplace, craning his head to look up. "I've always thought he ruined your eyes—they're so much grayer than they really are."  
  
Shinji looked her directly in the eye as he spoke. Asuka looked away, and Shinji immediately withdrew, feeling shy again.  
  
"What would you like for dinner?" he asked instead, changing the subject.  
  
Asuka had not noticed that she was hungry, but the overhead clock informed her that it was nearly eight.  
  
"I don't mind, anything's fine."  
  
"I don't really feel like cooking tonight," Shinji admitted honestly. "Do you mind take out?"  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Asuka had perused a variety of menus and made her selections. Shinji was on the phone, making their orders. A moment later he replaced the phone in its cradle and reached into a cupboard, pulling out two candleholders and two matching red candles. "I know it's not very romantic, but would you like to eat dinner outside?"  
  
If Asuka had thought the house was huge... no, there simply weren't any words she could think of to describe the deck. It seemed larger than the first floor of Misato's house and consisted of several floors, with various miniature staircases connecting them. Shinji led her up to the main area, which was adorned with a glass table and wire chairs laden with fluffy pillows. While Asuka seated herself, Shinji set up the umbrella for fun. He then proceeded to hand her a tiny bottle.  
  
"Mosquito Repellent?" she asked, trying out the words on the label tentatively.  
  
"You'll need it, believe me," Shinji replied grimly. "They'll be coming in clouds soon—I hope the candles will keep them away, to some extent. Just spray it over your arms and legs." The doorbell rang and Shinji ran to answer it, while Asuka followed his directions and found herself swathed in a misty scent that seemed both minty and bitter.  
  
Shinji lit the candles and filled her plate for her before sitting down across from her. Without further interruption, the two dug in.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"You were right about the mosquitoes."  
  
"I know." Shinji slapped at a pesky insect that had landed on his arm. "I learned from years of experience..."  
  
Asuka laughed for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. They were resting on a lower level of the grand deck now, in soft reclining chairs that allowed them both to lie down as they stared up at the stars. Shinji knew the name of a few and taught them to the redhead, and they enjoyed making up names for the ones they didn't know.  
  
"How long have you been here, Shinji?" she asked quietly.  
  
Shinji tensed, and for a moment she feared she had asked the wrong question.  
  
"I left Misato's house about the same time you did, and stayed with Kensuke's family for a while. When they moved to Osaka, I went with them...I wanted to say goodbye to Touji's sister and tell his parents I was sorry, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't think they'd ever want to see me again," he whispered, "after what I'd done to their son."  
  
Asuka turned to look at him, but his eyes were focused on the stars as he spoke again.  
  
"Kensuke never lost his love of photography. After the angel attacks stopped, the military defenses we had mounted up slowly lost importance. He concentrated on nature instead, and for awhile on people," Shinji explained, one corner of his mouth rising in a crooked smile. "Unfortunately, following them around and snapping countless pictures was not a good way to get girls to like him.  
  
"We went to college here, together...Kensuke of course studied photography, and I meandered from subject to subject, changing my major constantly. I was never like Kensuke, who knew exactly what he wanted to do, and so when he graduated and went to work for a magazine I went with him.  
  
"How about you? Are you planning to stay with Misato?"  
  
The question struck Asuka lightly this time. She remembered that several months ago, she had received quite a heavy shock when one of the children had asked her how long she would be staying.  
  
"As long as she wants me, I guess," Asuka finished finally. "I don't really have anywhere else to go, and she doesn't seem to mind too much. Besides, now that I have a job, I'm not depending solely on her and causing her stress."  
  
"You could always come live here," Shinji offered seriously.  
  
Silence. Shinji turned to look at her and saw that her eyes were big and blue, the stars reflecting in their sapphire depths.  
  
"Thank you," she replied at last, in a voice saturated with sincerity. "I had a wonderful time today, Shinji."  
  
His hand found hers, and he was relieved to feel that her palm was dry and her fingers relaxed. "If you thought today was fun, just wait until tomorrow." Excitement crept into his voice. "We're going to go swimming with dolphins, watch killer whale shows, and—how does a water ride sound?"  
  
"It sounds wonderful."  
  
Shinji smiled up to the heavens.  
  
_Thank goodness I found you, Asuka._  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Wake up, Misato."  
  
The two translucent Ritsukos in front of her rotated slowly in circles and finally melded into one very opaque blonde doctor. Misato attempted to lift her head, decided the amount of effort required was not worth it, and dropped it back to the table with a loud thud.  
  
"Come on..."  
  
The doctor was tugging lightly at her arm now. Misato sighed and propped up her chin with one hand. "Damn it, what do you want, Ritsuko? Do you know how tiring it is to drive to this place from Tokyo-3? And what time is it now, anyway? Three?"  
  
Ritsuko ignored her and spooned out a large serving of ice cream, waving it tantalizingly in front of the former Major's mouth. "Don't you want some?"  
  
Reluctantly Misato opened her mouth to grant the spoon entrance.  
  
"All right, you win," she muttered, sitting up. "Give me some."  
  
Author's Notes: Next time will have Asuka and Shinji in SeaWorld... I have to add that I invented some details about Los Angeles, so my apologies about any errors.  
  
I'm also trying to work Rei into this story, except Shinji and Asuka are having such a good time that I don't want to ruin it for them...she will definitely be here in the end though—that chapter is already half-written.  
  
Drop me a review and tell me how I'm doing. Thanks so much to all of you! 


	16. Monday

He had been worried about boring her during the long ride. Shinji was not a fast driver like Misato; he enjoyed going along at his own leisurely pace, and unlike a trip through Tokyo-3, a trip through California could get boring easily with the repetitive forests and occasional glimpse of ocean. Maybe she'd like to go to the beach sometime.  
  
Shinji glanced at the clock and noted that they had been driving for nearly two hours. Asuka sat in the passenger's seat, to his right, and had her forehead pressed against the window.  
  
"Are you hot?"  
  
She turned abruptly and smiled. "No, I'm fine."  
  
Pause.  
  
They stopped for lunch in a local restaurant while passing through a small town. Shinji ordered a burger without even looking at the menu; Asuka wavered between a salad and spaghetti and finally settled on the noodles. When the waiter brought their orders, however, she found the sauce foreign and scraped most of it off before bringing it to her mouth. On their way back to the car Shinji stopped at a roadside stand and purchased a sack of oranges.  
  
Asuka stopped with her thumb midway through the peel. A gentle spray of citric acid sprayed out and coated her knuckles.  
  
"Something wrong?" Shinji glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Asuka noticed the concern in his honest brown eyes and quickly smiled.  
  
"No, nothing."  
  
Shinji smiled.  
  
Asuka was thinking of her first days after waking from the long coma. Her nurse had brought her oranges, and she recalled the first joys of peeling off the thick, rubbery outside. She dug her thumb deep under the peel and pulled upward. The fruit emitted a soft tearing sound as she ripped away the peel.  
  
_How far I've come since then._  
  
They were driving into yet another wooded road, and the leaves of the overhead canopy shredded the sunlight so that only fine slivers showered down on the hot metal of Shinji's car. He drummed his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel and swallowed a yawn.  
  
Asuka had awakened before him that morning, and was already wandering around the house fully dressed when he had wandered into the kitchen, only half-awake. Slightly embarrassed, he had hurried to make pancakes and pack a bag with anything they might need during the day. By nine, they were out the door and heading down the street.  
  
"Is that it?" Asuka asked, her voice breaking into his reflections. He followed the direction of her finger—sure enough, partially obscured by the curve in the road, was a large billboard reading: SeaWorld, 15 miles. "Fifteen miles. That's not very far, is it?" she asked carefully, in clipped English.  
  
He chuckled at her cautious tone. "No, it's not far." She beamed, and he went on to compliment, "I'm impressed with your English."  
  
The redhead grinned a little, then switched back to Japanese. "I was surprised, too, by just how much I remembered...when I first got off the plane and realized I could understand most of what people around me were saying." She glanced out the window, donning a serious expression. "I don't know where I learned it, though... I practiced a little with Misato before I left Japan, and she guessed that I studied it in college in Germany."  
_  
That's right, she went to college in Germany before coming to Japan. And she tutored me in thermal expansion._  
  
"Did I ever talk to you in English... back... then?"  
  
"I don't think so," Shinji tried to recall. "You were a genius, but you sometimes had a hard time with tests at school because you couldn't read the kanji."  
  
There was a short pause in which Asuka smiled to herself, trying to dig up these childhood memories that she had shared with Shinji. They were buried somewhere deep within the crevices of her fourteen-year-old mind, hidden from the twenty-six year old young woman.  
  
"There's another sign," Asuka pointed out, getting excited now. The billboard proclaimed "SeaWorld" in large bold letters, half black and blue, against a background of waves and dolphins. "Oh, I can't wait."  
  
"I can't either," Shinji added, and it was the truth; he had not been to SeaWorld in several years, since he and Kensuke had promptly been asked to leave after the avid photographer sneaked into the back of the penguin exhibit, attempting to get a close-up picture. The result was a loud commotion involving many wet feathers and one very disgruntled guard. Needless to mention, no useful photos were produced.  
  
Twenty minutes later Shinji pulled into a parking space after weaving in and out of the tour buses. Asuka all but ran out of the car, eager to stretch her legs, and Shinji had to chase after her. She laughed as he did so, her long hair streaming in the soft breeze. God, he would never get tired of hearing her laugh. He paid for the tickets and took her hand as they raced toward the Dolphin Discovery—Shinji had no intention of being left behind again. Unfortunately, much to their dismay, it was closed and the next show was not for several hours—so they headed towards the flamingo exhibit instead.  
  
They took their time, stopping to take a look every now and then in a gift shop. There were a variety of trees and flowers scattered throughout the park, and Asuka wanted to stop to admire all of them. Shinji fumbled through his pack for a camera and snapped a picture of the redhead kneeling beside a cluster of wild lilies.  
  
Asuka noticed a foul stench and asked, "What is that smell?"  
  
Shinji didn't like it any better than she did, but he was afraid that the truth would make her want to turn back. He replied, "You'll see in a minute," and immediately regretted it, but the redhead only smiled and squeezed his hand. They passed a large clump of ferns—then—  
  
"Oh my gosh!"  
  
One fat pink flamingo looked up at her star-struck face, fluffed out its feathers, then went back to hunting for food in the shallow water.  
  
All Shinji wanted to do was hold his nose and back away as far as he could. Asuka, on the other hand, went closer—and leaned in towards the birds.  
  
"How can their legs hold them up?" she marveled aloud. "They're so skinny! And their necks so long!"  
  
As if in reply, one particularly fat flamingo hoisted up one leg into his feathers and tucked his head under his wing. The girl watched in amazement as the bird remained perfectly balanced on his other skinny leg.  
  
"Asuka." Shinji's voice was strained and rather funny sounding, as he was pinching his nose.  
  
"Sorry." She hurried away from the murky swamp. Shinji gasped for air as they ran, making her laugh.  
  
Their next stop was to see the penguins, which were housed inside a large, partially lit facility, which was maintained at an extremely low temperature. Containing this cubicle was a darkened room with a series of steps facing the penguins, where viewers sat. However, so many eager children were pressing against the glass of the penguins' home that it was nearly impossible to see anything but dark human heads from the staircase, so Shinji and Asuka made their way up to the front.  
  
"It's Pen-pen!" Asuka whispered, "...except without the red tufted feathers on his head."  
  
Shinji was rather preoccupied with hoping that the guards wouldn't recognize him.  
  
_Pen-pen sleeps in Misato's freezer, but he still loves to come out and play in normal temperatures,_ Asuka thought. A group of penguins lined up neatly on an icy edge and, one by one, hopped into the water. _How dreadful it must be to live here, in this cold and dark place.  
_  
Having lived with a penguin for a good amount of time, Asuka didn't find the penguins nearly as amusing as the fat flamingoes, and was soon ready to leave. When she stepped back, however, her foot landed on someone else's—and that someone else let out a soft wince.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Asuka quickly supplied. But the girl's face held no emotion, even as she raised it to meet Asuka's gaze.  
  
She was a young girl, only about four or five, but it was her hair that caught and held Asuka's gaze for several moments. It was blue, an icy cold blue that chilled Asuka as it eerily reflected the faint glow of the penguins' habitat—  
  
"Rei?"  
  
The girl's face was alight against the dark background; shadows danced on her face; unconsciously Asuka had already blocked out the senseless chatter of those around her—  
  
"I am not Rei," she said levelly, in a voice that was much too old for a child her age.  
  
"I'm sorry," Asuka apologized. "I—I just thought..."  
  
The spell broke. The Rei-like child became a normal girl caught up in the excitement of summer vacation. She gazed up at Asuka with large, fearful eyes, then ran—_amazing, _thought Asuka, _that eyes which were just a moment ago so devoid of all feeling could suddenly make all the difference in whether she was a memory or a real, live child._  
  
_That didn't make sense_. She shook herself, trying to rid herself of the cold feeling the child had given her.  
  
"Shall we go?" she asked Shinji, rather anxious to get out of the dark confines of the penguin house.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Several hours later Asuka was eating a three-colored Popsicle and had managed to stain her tongue ocean blue. Shinji was working on an ice cream sandwich and had to lick frantically to keep it from dripping as he checked his watch. "The Dolphin Discovery starts in fifteen minutes."  
  
They made it just in time and selected seats in the eleventh row, where they would get a perfect view. Asuka had never seen a dolphin nor a killer whale before and Shinji had been kicked out before getting to attend the show last time, so naturally both were quite excited.  
  
Until they got soaked.  
  
Asuka screamed and dived for cover behind Shinji, who unfortunately took the full drenching. A brief intermission took place, as guests grumbled and moaned about the 55-degree seawater. Shinji spit a mouthful of it onto the back of the seat in front of him.  
  
"Sorry," Asuka apologized in a small voice. Shinji shrugged, evidently not mad.  
  
They watched several trainers feed and swim with the dolphins and killer whales. At one point they called for a volunteer, and Asuka raised her hand high—but they chose a little blonde boy who was not yet eight. A trainer guided him onto the whale's back and handed him fish to throw into the animal's mouth. Asuka was disappointed.  
  
"Well, at least you're dry," Shinji commented helpfully as they passed the boy on the way out. He was now howling about the salt water in his eyes, and nothing his mother did would shush him. The father stood off to the side, looking rather red and embarrassed.  
  
"Time to stop for dinner?" Shinji suggested. Asuka agreed; she hadn't noticed how hungry she was until the whale started wolfing down pounds of fish.  
  
She chose the restaurant. It was a small café with tables set up outside and umbrellas to shade the occupants while they ate. Asuka opted for the salad this time, while Shinji wavered between two types of sandwiches and finally wound up getting one of each.  
  
"I'm hungry!" he protested teasingly.  
  
Asuka sat cross-legged, comfortably shaded by the umbrella, and watched people walk by. There was a short black metal fence separating the café from the rest of the park, and just beyond it several evergreen bushes flourished. She stabbed at a piece of tomato with her fork and chewed slowly, enjoying herself. Out on the brick path, an impatient child ran on ahead of his parents, throwing a stuffed animal dolphin into the air and catching it repeatedly.  
  
Shinji followed her gaze, as he had done so many times that day. "You want one?"  
  
"Oh, no," she said, and turned back to her salad. They finished their meal in silence.  
  
"I'm going to use the restroom." Shinji stood up. "If the waiter comes, tell him to wait one moment."  
  
Asuka nodded as Shinji disappeared into the gift shop alongside the café. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the waiter speaking courteously to another couple._ No, she thought, blushing furiously, we are not a couple—although I do like Shinji-kun very much—_  
  
_Please wait one moment, _she thought quickly, repeating the English words under her breath, so that she would be ready should the waiter happened to come by. _Please wait one moment..._  
  
"Would you like the check, miss?"  
  
Asuka blinked.  
  
"One moment," she managed to get out, and then added, "please..."  
  
The waited nodded, not having noticed anything out of the ordinary, and hurried off to the next table. Asuka exhaled, noting that he did not bow, as any sensible Japanese would have done. She stretched her legs and let her sandals scrape on the brick-laid floor. She wondered what Misato was doing—then again, it was night in Tokyo-3, so Misato was presumably asleep.  
  
Shinji returned a moment later, surprising her with his seemingly sudden appearance in front of her.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
They didn't head back until it was dark, and had it not been for the magical button on Shinji's keychain that caused the lights of his car to flash and beep, they might have been lost for a very long time. Asuka climbed into the passenger's seat and kicked off her shoes immediately. Shinji got in beside her and slammed the door.  
  
"Did you have fun today?" he asked, starting the engine. A vast array of lights flashed on across the dashboard; most faded to black within a matter of seconds.  
  
"Yes," Asuka assured him. "I liked the flamingoes best."  
  
"They were so smelly, though," Shinji muttered, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Asuka laughed.  
  
Silence. Moonlight draped a soft aura around Asuka's features.  
  
"Tomorrow won't be nearly as fun," he reminded apologetically. "I have to work..."  
  
"That's all right," Asuka insisted. "I'd like to see where you work... I still don't know exactly what you do."  
  
"You might not find it very interesting," he cautioned.  
  
"That's fine."  
  
Pause.  
  
When Shinji glanced at her again, Asuka was fast asleep, her chest rising and falling slowly with each breath. He noted the distance to the next rest station and pulled off the road as soon as he could.  
  
The former pilot of Eva Unit 01 walked to the back and unzipped his pack. From the largest compartment he removed a plastic bag, and from that, a stuffed animal dolphin, exactly like the one Asuka had watched another child handle. He shut the back door as quietly as he could and returned to his place in the driver's seat.  
  
Asuka was facing towards him, and her sweet expression made him want to hold her as he gently tucked her arms around the toy. She mumbled a bit but didn't stir.  
  
A hint of a smile crept onto Shinji's face as he restarted the engine.  
  
Author's Notes: Guys I'm so sorry about the lateness of this chapter! I promise I'll try to update more often (I'm leaving for Japan and China on the 29th of June, so I'm hoping to finish it up before then).  
  
Writing this chapter was very much like writing a school report on "What did you do over the summer?" I tried to make it interesting, but the results were—well, evidently not the best. I haven't been to SeaWorld in about four years and I relied mainly on their website, so my apologies for any glaring errors I've made.  
  
Last time I was asked what language Asuka and Shinji communicate in. In general it's Japanese, since I figured that would be easier for Asuka, but I apparently forgot to explain where she learned English. Oops. Considering that she went to college in Germany and learned both German and Japanese, I assumed it was fairly reasonable that she had learned and been relatively fluent in English at the time of the series (roughly twelve years before this fanfic). Since she retained most of her Japanese after waking up, a sizeable amount of English came along as well, but recently she's been much more focused on speaking in Japanese than English, so it's taking our heroine a bit of effort to pick it back up.  
  
Oh, and to Asuka201, I'll be emailing you soon!  
  
Wow, long author's note. Drop me a review and tell me how I'm doing. Sorry again for the delay! 


	17. Tuesday

He recognized her presence immediately, a pleasing change from the silent morning.  
  
Despite having owned the house for nearly three years, he was rarely in it, preferring instead to work late into the night. Every once in awhile he would get carried away and wind up sleeping at his desk, bent over a stack of potential magazine covers. Obviously, Asuka wouldn't have taken to this habit very well, so Shinji had dusted the house from top to bottom and purchased some groceries before his arrival, attempting to give it some form of a vivacious theme.  
  
Asuka lingered by the doorframe, her fingertips brushing against the smoothened wood. Shinji picked up the frying pan in one hand, skillfully flipped its contents with a spatula held in the other, and turned to face the redhead.  
  
"Good morning."  
  
"Morning," she responded, making her way over to his side as he continued to cook. She sniffed thoughtfully—the mass of yellow, speckled with green and red was unfamiliar, but she liked the warm scent it was giving off.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Shinji poked it and gave it a final flip. "A vegetable omelette." He slid it deftly onto a plate in front of her. The fork and knife followed with two twin clangs.  
  
Asuka cut off a small corner and tasted it, nodding her approval. "What are the red and green spots?"  
  
"The vegetables," Shinji explained, "tomatoes, peppers, onions, green beans, zucchini, mushrooms..."  
  
She ate while he made himself another one, stacking the mushrooms neatly in a pile on the left side of her plate. Asuka took her time and enjoyed herself. This was her favorite room of all—it lacked the overwhelming albeit elegant two-story windows of the living room—which would inevitably have whittled down her appetite. Instead, three pieces of glass had been placed at such angles that they jutted out of the wall in a trapezoidal shape, providing the redhead with a beautiful view of the land past Shinji's vast backyard.  
  
Shinji slid into place across from her, an identical steaming omelette on his plate. "You like the lake?"  
  
She nodded. It was by far the largest body of water she had ever seen, with the exception of the ocean, framed with a spray of various deciduous trees. A flock of geese took flight into the azure sky.  
  
"It's very beautiful," she remarked. "I couldn't have imagined this view from the front of the house."  
  
"Mmfph." Shinji swallowed hard. "I'm lucky that this house was built on the top of a hill, and the lake is a good distance away. No flooding—I saw enough of that in Japan."  
  
Asuka remembered the stories Misato had told her and nodded somberly.  
  
Shinji glanced at his watch and shoved the rest of his omelette down in one big gulp. "We should be leaving soon...excuse me." He pushed in his chair and placed his plate in the sink before hurrying off upstairs. Asuka willed herself to eat faster while savoring every bite. She wondered where Shinji had learned to cook.  
  
_That's right, _she thought suddenly, _I'll be meeting Kensuke today. _She wondered what the freckled camera boy would be like now. Asuka shoved the last bite into her mouth and hurried her plate to the sink.  
  
Shinji's plate had been left to soak in some soapy water, but Asuka didn't feel quite right placing hers there as well—the dirty plates would mar the cleanliness of the house. She glanced around and saw that he had cleaned up all the ingredients of their breakfast. Asuka reached for a sponge and began to scrub.  
  
"You don't need to do that."  
  
Shinji had reappeared in the doorway, now dressed for work and fixing his tie. "Ready to go?"  
  
"I...I... I need to get ready," Asuka stuttered, thinking of the soapy water splattered on her blue skirt; however, a glance at the clock informed her that it was already past nine. Past time to go.  
  
"You look fine," Shinji assured her. "I'm proud to be seen in the company of a girl as pretty as you."  
  
Asuka blushed, dried her hands, and followed him out the door.  
  
"So tell me more about your job," Shinji initiated, gracefully turning the corner after a long, straight road. A rubber ball bounced into the street and he quickly stopped, patiently waiting for the child to come pick it up. The boy gave him a wave, and Shinji returned the gesture.  
  
"Well, there's a girl who works with me, named Madoka." Asuka smiled, thinking of the girl's eager face upon learning that she was going to America. "She's worked there much longer than I have, and loves to experiment. Recently she came up with the idea of making starfruit ice cream—and for days the line was so long we couldn't close the door."  
  
"If only business for our magazine was that good..." Shinji mused, drawing a chuckle from the redhead. The sun shone brightly in his eyes and he fumbled in his bag for sunglasses. Asuka located them and handed to him. "Thanks. Too bad we don't have any of those ice cream parlors here. The only ice cream you can get is from the grocery store, made and frozen weeks ago."  
  
"I love making ice cream," she confided. "Misato donated a cart of watermelons last week, and we made watermelon ice cream."  
  
"I want watermelon ice cream." Shinji pretended to pout.  
  
Asuka wished he had an ice cream maker. Then she would whip up gallons of fluffy, creamy dessert, garnished with small chunks of strawberry...  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"This whole building is yours?"  
  
"No," Shinji laughed, "We rented an office upstairs; other businesses have their offices here as well." He removed the key from the ignition and tossed it in his pocket. It was a sunny day; Shinji had purposely parked the car in the shade so that it would be relatively cool when they returned.  
  
Every inch of floor was shiny and polished, and Asuka's shoes clicked neatly on the tiles. They took the elevator up to the ninth floor, and Asuka amused herself during the brief ride by examining her appearance in the ceiling, which consisted of one large rectangular mirror.  
  
With a welcoming ring, the doors slid open, and Asuka followed Shinji out onto the carpeted floor. The elegance and cheerfulness of the first floor was gone; here everything was deadly silent and very serious. She felt a sense of foreboding as Shinji walked smartly down the hallway, found the appropriate door, and unlocked it. Inside were several small cubicles and beyond it, roomed offices. The entire place was humming with activity; from where she stood in the doorway, Asuka could see people making phone calls, scribbling busily on a notepad, or typing at the computer.  
  
"Come on," Shinji called. Asuka shut the door behind her and followed. Several people called out morning salutations as they passed; Shinji lifted his hand in response and smiled. More than one of them cast surprised looks at Asuka, who felt very out of place.  
  
Shinji stopped in front of a closed door. A short strip of metal was mounted upon the wood, and the name "Kensuke Aida" carved neatly into the shiny metallic surface. Shinji knocked sharply; Asuka heard, "Come in," and Shinji pushed open the door. A brown-haired man sat facing away from them, resizing photographs on his computer.  
  
"Hey, Kensuke."  
  
Kensuke turned slowly. His eyes went not to Shinji, but to Asuka, and widened considerably. He jumped out of his seat, upsetting his keyboard in the process. Asuka backed away quickly as Kensuke grabbed his camera and began snapping pictures of the redhead, all the while shouting "Sugoi! _SUGOI!_ She's here!"  
  
_"Kensuke_," Shinji muttered sharply, as every head in the office turned towards them. Asuka ducked behind Shinji in fright and stayed there.  
  
"Sorry, got carried away." Kensuke lowered his camera sheepishly, a strawberry blush now slightly hiding the freckles. "Welcome to America, Asuka."  
  
"Thanks," she replied, poking her head up over Shinji's shoulder.  
  
Shinji cleared his throat. "Kensuke, would you like to show Asuka some of your work?"  
  
"Sure." He laid the camera down on its rest and pulled over another chair. Asuka hesitated, but Shinji promised not to be long—he had a meeting to attend to, and if she needed anything, his office was just next door.  
  
"And Kensuke, keep your camera away from her," he warned.  
  
"Hai, hai!" Kensuke waved over his head. Shinji gave Asuka a final smile and closed the door.  
  
Now completely alone with the boy who'd once spied on her in the changing room while taking pictures, Asuka slid tentatively into the seat he had prepared for her. It was soft and comfortable, with padded armrests.  
  
Kensuke was drawing up a folder labeled Brazil 2025. "Shinji and I made a trip to Brazil two years ago," he explained, "and spent three days trekking through the jungle with a guide. "Here's a pair of blue and gold macaws—they were placed on Brazil's Endangered Species List in 1981—very friendly birds, they just sat and let us photograph them as we wanted. Here—"he clicked on a picture of a large red parrot with green-blue fringes on its wings: "—this is a Green-winged macaw, also placed on the list in 1981—shame what's happening to the wildlife, really—look, Asuka, we had to hide in the trees and wait for nearly an hour to get this picture of the crocodiles—Shinji was almost going mad by then, but it was all worth it. This is one of my favorite pictures—" Kensuke scrolled down and selected another image: "—we'd spent all morning wading through the swamp, so we took a nice break in the park, and this big stork just waddled up out of nowhere—amazing, isn't it, how its feathers are split into such neat sections of color? Oh, and this monkey nearly made Shinji run to the airport and board a plane for home immediately—our guide had packed a box of fresh papayas and mangoes for lunch, but forgot to seal it—when we came back, this little fellow had already eaten a good majority of them—look, here's a papaya tree with ripe fruit—"  
  
And so it went on. Nearly an hour later Kensuke had gone through his albums of not only Brazil but also the Great Barrier Reef and Tierra del Fuego, and would have gladly begun on another of Tahiti had Asuka not interrupted and kindly told him that she would like to see Shinji's office.  
  
She made her way across the hall, examining each of the unfamiliar lettering on the doors, until she came to one that read quite simply:  
  


**Shinji Ikari**  


  
It was unlocked. She twisted the doorknob and entered.  
  
Much like his house, every nook and cranny was perfectly clean and organized. It was rather small but cozy, with a couch and coffee table facing her. His desk was to her left, and above it hung a variety of certificates. On her right side, two identical bookcases stood tightly against the wall. A variety of hanging plants draped long tendrils over the top shelf.  
  
Asuka seated herself in his swiveling leather chair, feeling very small. The back was several inches higher than her head. She kicked her legs, to no avail; finally she grabbed the edge of the desk and pulled. The chair slid forward.  
  
His desk was covered with stacks of paper, each neat and organized. In the corner she recognized the magazine which he had used to invite her to America. Beside it was another older issue, with the picture of the two blue and gold macaws Kensuke had showed off earlier splashed across its cover.  
  
In front of her lay a pile of papers that had been neatly paper clipped together and labeled "Pending Articles."  
  
"Having fun?"  
  
Asuka jumped at Shinji's voice.  
  
He came over to her side. Asuka was terrified that he would be angry with her for looking through his things, but instead his face broke into a grin. "Did you like the article on Belladonna lilies?"  
  
"I didn't get to read it yet," she admitted.  
  
"Then I have an idea."  
  
Several minutes later they were both seated comfortably on the squashy couch, a variety of articles spread out over the table. Asuka's job was to read each of them and decide whether or not she liked it, and based on that decision Shinji would decide whether or not to publish it.  
  
"Is this what you do in a usual day?" Asuka asked.  
  
Shinji shrugged. "It's almost time for another publication, so we held a meeting to settle on the cover story," he explained. "I don't have a consistent schedule that I can stick to daily—sometimes I read articles and decide which ones to publish, sometimes I edit them or send them back to the writer, and other times I look through pictures. Of course, once in awhile I go on a trip with Kensuke and other photographers."  
  
Asuka thought this over and decided she preferred ice cream making any day.  
  
"What's the cover story for this month?" she asked.  
  
Shinji opened up his briefcase and produced a manila folder. The redhead opened it to find an article on Costa Rican rain frogs. The photographs had already been selected and clipped to the first page.  
  


_The general life cycle of a common frog begins with the spawn, a mass of eggs in which the embryos develop. Hatching occurs between 6 and 21 days, producing hundreds of tiny tailed tadpoles, which eventually develop legs and grow to resemble an adult frog. These then disperse into the world and produce more eggs to complete the cycle.   
  
The Costa Rican rain frog bypasses the tadpole stage, however, by laying eggs that contain fully developed albeit tiny froglets..._  


  
Asuka looked up. Shinji was perusing another article, but sensed her discomfort and met her gaze. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Shinji, what's a tadpole?"  
  
He gave her the Japanese name, but she still didn't seem to understand.  
_  
I can't help him read articles, _Asuka thought, disappointed, _because I don't know these terms. If only my English was better..._  
  
But Shinji had another idea. "I know your English is good enough to give you the general idea of each article. Why don't you look through the pictures and decide which would fit best with which article?"  
  
She liked that idea, and quickly got to work.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"What did you think of my job, now that you've gotten to experience it firsthand?"  
  
Asuka thought wistfully of Madoka and her starfruit ice cream and chose her response carefully. "It's very interesting to be able to work with so many people...and visit places like—" she had to think to remember the Spanish name: "Tierra del Fuego."  
  
"Did Kensuke show you his pictures of the penguins?"  
  
"Yes, and many more."  
  
Shinji laughed. He reached into his pocket and handed his keyring to Asuka. By now, the ritual didn't need words: Asuka took it from him, found the correct button, and pressed it firmly with her thumb. His car emitted a loud beep and flashed its lights.  
  
"What will we be doing tomorrow?" she asked, as they slid into their respective seats. He held out a hand for the keys and she gave them to him.  
  
"Sleep." Shinji started the engine. "I'm tired, and you're tired, and I can tell you're still suffering from jet lag. If we feel like it we can drive out to the beach in the afternoon."  
  
"I didn't bring a swimsuit," she faltered.  
  
"No matter, we'll go buy one."  
  
Asuka began to argue, but he was insistent.  
  
She was silent by the time they reached his house. Shinji glanced at the redhead. Asuka was resting her head against the window, not moving. A pang of guilt swept over Shinji—he'd managed to exhaust her yesterday and thoroughly bore her today.  
  
"Asuka."  
  
"Mm."  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
She smiled at him then, and he relaxed. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"  
  
He handed her the keyring, and she locked all the doors. Then, with her heels clicking on the stone path and his feet making no sounds at all, they went home.  
  
Author's Note: I remember getting a question awhile back on what Shinji actually did, so I added a bit of insight into that, and we meet Kensuke for the first time.  
  
Asuka201—my email's being stupid, so I'll just post here what I was originally planning to email: I'm very impressed that you'd like to translate my story into Chinese, and of course you may do so. I'd like to request that you mention my name and add a link to this fanfiction when you post it, and send me a link to your translation so I can add it to the beginning of this story. Thank you!  
  
And thank you to everyone who's been reviewing! You all are the greatest! 


	18. Wednesday

"Don't you have to go back to work soon?"  
  
Misato flashed a grin. "Luckily for me, Ritsuko, my hours are much more flexible than yours. Besides, it's much too lonely without Asuka around."  
  
The blonde sighed and picked up her bag. "All right then...have fun." She stepped into her high heels and wriggled her toes. "Don't get too rowdy."  
  
"Jeez, Ritsuko... loosen up!"  
  
The doctor rolled her eyes and left.  
_  
I could almost imagine we were back in college, if only..._ Misato shook her head and twisted the doorknob to make sure it was locked, even as the clicks of Ritsuko's heels disappeared down the stairs.  
  
She'd been here for three days now, taking over Ritsuko's house. Despite the blonde's cool exterior, she sensed that her old friend enjoyed her company; they had sat up taking late into the nights and eating watermelon ice cream (Misato reminded herself to tell Asuka not to bring anymore home, as she was thoroughly sick of it.) Monday and Tuesday had been relatively conservative days in which Ritsuko went to work and Misato cooked and cleaned. Despite the doctor's preference for sanitation, lack of sleep had won over, and her cleaning habits had promptly gone out the window.  
  
But Misato was tired of vinegar and detergent, and today she intended to have some fun.  
  
She had not visited downtown Kyoto in years. In May of 2010 she had been dispatched to tour a small facility there; the plan had been to construct certain Evangelion parts there, but for reasons unknown to her, Commander Ikari and Vice Commander Fuyutsuki had denied it. That day had been rainy and humid, and Misato remembered little of the actual city—not that it would have mattered, since Kyoto had undergone mass infrastructure changes since then.  
  
Having never returned Ritsuko's key, Misato used it to lock the door after she exited. She wore high heels similar to Ritsuko's, and a stylish navy blue skirt complimented by a matching summery shirt. The hair she left down, feeling that the less white hairs showed, the better. Perhaps it was time to try dyeing it—surely Ritsuko would have some advice in that direction.  
  
Misato opened the last door and a wave of sunlight streamed into the dark apartment. The soundproof door had blocked nearly all of the noise generated from traffic and children, and Misato was suddenly very eager to become a part of it.  
  
She walked, leaving her car in the parking lot, swinging her small handbag with her left hand. It was made of plastic, in a pattern of that consisted of two vertical pink stripes and one white one between them. The bag was barely large enough to fit a handgun in it, and that was how Misato liked it. The only things she carried within it were her money and a small compact mirror. She drew up to a small outdoor café and sat down, ordering a cup of tea. In her younger days, college, perhaps, she would have gone out drinking late into the night with Kaji and Ritsuko, who always attempted to maintain a firm stance on her refusal to drink but eventually giving in.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Misato turned, but didn't need to—the guy slid directly into the seat across from her. She was slightly taken aback at first, but relaxed into a smile. She was here to have fun, after all.  
  
"Hey yourself."  
  
The guy chuckled and waved his hand at the waiter, ordering another cup of tea. Misato tossed her hair back in what she hoped was a confident way. She wasn't sure of herself anymore—she had come out of Ritsuko's drab little room to enjoy herself, but _damn_—she was forty-one years old already, and flirting didn't come so easily to her. Nor was it any fun, now that she had "grown up". Misato was disappointed.  
  
But she didn't feel comfortable telling him to leave, either, so she did neither.  
  
He was watching her closely, which made her all the more uneasy. "What's your name?"  
  
Pause.  
  
"Misato."  
  
"Misato huh?" He spoke with a faint accent that suggested he wasn't native to neither Tokyo nor Kyoto. "How would you like to come over tonight?" His arm was snaking around her slender waist, and Misato was surprised to discover that she was quivering from not fright, but anger.  
  
"GET OFF OF ME!"  
  
And to the shock of the entire café, she promptly delivered a punch to his face that knocked him off his chair and followed it up with a kick. The metal chair was up over her head and would shortly have landed on top of the poor man had someone not taken a firm hold of her right arm.  
  
"Hey." For the second time, Misato turned. This time, however, she was staring directly at a police badge. "Put that chair down."  
  
Slowly she obeyed, not taking her eyes off of his stern face.  
  
The officer's eyes strayed to the man writhing on the ground. "Are you all right?"  
  
He got to his feet, glaring at Misato, and began spewing out curses. The officer rolled his eyes in aggravation, handcuffed both of them, and led them to his car. Behind them, the shushed chatter started up again.  
  
Misato glanced at her watch, twisting her head around to do so. It was only 9:00 AM. She sighed. This was going to be a long day.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Shinji? Is that you?"  
  
He heard her voice and panicked, found the nearest cupboard, and shoved his purchases on top of whatever was inside. "Asuka?"  
  
She fumbled for a light switch, found it, and lit the room. "I thought you went to bed."  
  
"I did. I... left something at the office and had to drive back for it."  
  
"Oh." Asuka yawned. Shinji sighed mentally, relieved that she'd bought his excuse. "Sorry... I'm going back to bed now."  
  
"Don't worry, you can sleep in as late as you can tomorrow," he assured her. "Whenever you wake up we can go swimsuit shopping and then we'll go to the beach."  
  
Asuka nodded, too tired to argue.  
  
When she had disappeared back into her room and her footsteps had ceased, Shinji reached into the cupboard and pulled out the bags. From them he removed one brand new ice cream maker and several cartons of fresh strawberries. Shinji left the ice cream maker on the counter and rummaged around the refrigerator, trying to find room for the strawberries.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"You can't put me in jail!"  
  
"Until we get this cleared up, we are. And believe me, lady, I'm not enjoying this any more than you are." The door slid shut and the guard walked away, muttering under his breath.  
  
Misato was tempted to shout after him, but decided not to—she really didn't want to stay here any longer than she had to. Her gaze shifted slowly to the other inmates, fortunately all of whom were female. She looked down at her hands, which were now free.  
  
The former Major avoided looking at her fellow inmates, four of them in all, shivering to think what Ikari Gendo would say if he saw her now. _Damn it, if only they hadn't taken my cell phone... I could call Ritsuko, or maybe even Asuka..._  
  
"Hey." For the third (and she hoped last) time, Misato turned in response to the same greeting. One of the women lifted her chin in her direction. "So, what have _you _done?"  
  
"I...well... beat up a guy," she admitted.  
  
This drew an admiring sound from the rest of the women, all of whom quickly insisted that Misato tell them the full story. Rather reluctantly she did, preferring that they hear the story from her lips than from one of the jailers. She wondered what had happened to the guy who had been arrested with her, but decided she didn't care.  
  
"Tough girl," commented another woman, making a clucking sound in the back of her throat. Misato glanced at her and edged away—she was beginning to feel some fear despite their admiration for her; this particular inmate had long dark hair sticking in all directions, some matted down across her shoulders and throat. Much to Misato's horror, she laughed and pulled her closer with a long bony arm. "Come now, don't be shy."  
  
Misato would have liked nothing more than to squirm away; the unoccupied corner of the metal bench looked like a haven to her.  
  
_I need a phone...I need to call Ritsuko!_  
  
She glanced through the sturdy metal bars that made up the door. They were on the second floor, in what she expected was a temporary holding room—none of them yet had been made to change into the white shirt and orange pants that all prisoners were required to wear. Misato thought of Ritsuko's advice and groaned; most likely the doctor wouldn't be at all surprised to find the apartment empty and wouldn't send out a search party even if she didn't come home for three days.  
  
Misato looked at her watch again and rubbed the sore parts of her wrist where the metal of the handcuffs had dug deep into the skin. It was now 10:30 AM.  
  
Thankfully the woman chose to release her. "She's getting bored. Tell her what you did." The command was followed by another nod.  
  
Thus began a long tirade of stories about how each of them had managed to land herself in jail, ranging from excessive speeding to shoplifting. Misato didn't find any of them particularly amusing and had to exercise extreme self-control to keep herself from glancing at her watch constantly. It was 10:34. She had to know...  
  
"Hey," she ventured cautiously, "when you came in here, did they let you made any phone calls?"  
  
The long-haired woman snorted. "Haven't got anyone to call."  
  
"Me neither," another replied.  
  
_Damn._  
  
Misato slouched down low and crossed her arms and legs.  
  
_So much for a fun day._  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Ritsuko was feeling very jealous of Misato at the moment. She had been called into her employer's office and given a full lecture on being ten minutes late—the morning fog and rush hour had made no difference whatsoever; if anything, it had lengthened the lecture. Next, one of her colleagues had come rushing into her room in a near panic, unable to find the blueprints desired by a client. Consequently, Ritsuko's entire morning had been spent poring over a mountain of manila folders and stray files. Back in the days of Nerv, this had been Misato's job, and Ritsuko had commonly teased her about it. Those words came back to haunt her now, as she pulled out yet another file.  
  
Someone called out from her office, and Ritsuko recognized her as the one who had been panicked about blueprints—_damn it, why isn't _she _here looking?_—calling her.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Your phone's ringing."  
  
"Well then, let it ring."  
  
"...all right..."  
  
She had been waiting, craving, yearning for the lunch break, but when that hour came her manager stopped in and coolly informed her that he was sending his secretary out to buy lunches for the entire staff and needed her order. Of course it wouldn't do to have a dismayed client, so she was to remain in the storage room, searching for that missing blueprint.  
  
When lunch finally came, Ritsuko ripped off the plastic wrapping and tore hungrily into it, not tasting anything, and certainly not giving a thought to the flashing answering machine on her desk.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Damn you, Ritsuko!"  
  
However, Misato knew better than to slam the phone down on the receiver. She'd been waiting—what, three hours?—for her chance, and Ritsuko had to leave her office in that one precious moment.  
  
She stole a glance at the fat guard in charge of the phone. He was busy talking with another stern-faced guard. Misato picked up the receiver again and quickly pressed the buttons that would—hopefully—somehow—get her out of here.  
  
She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, waiting impatiently.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Asuka awoke briefly and groggily reached for the light. Had there been a faint ring, or was she imagining it? Asuka listened as intently as she could in her present state, decided she had been dreaming, and shut off the light. She pulled the covers over her head and went back to sleep.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Hey." The voice she heard on the line was most certainly not Asuka's—it was most certainly male. "This call is being monitored—and you've already made more than your allotted number of calls."  
  
_Click._  
  
Sadly Misato replaced the receiver and allowed the guard to lead her back to her cell, where the other four inmates were waiting eagerly for news.  
  
"So? Who'd you call?"  
  
"Are they coming to get you?"  
  
"No," Misato muttered, ignoring the first question as she sank back into her own spot by the door. The metal bench was icy cold and hard.  
  
"At least you had someone to call," one of them offered kindly.  
  
Despairingly Misato looked into her face and was surprised to see a mixture of sympathy and sadness. "What happened to—to your—?"  
  
She shrugged, not minding the purple-haired woman's directness. "All dead."  
  
"I'm sorry," Misato quickly apologized.  
  
"Doesn't matter. So, who'd you call?"  
  
"My friend," she admitted quietly, knowing it would lead to a discussion about her parents. Misato steeled herself, knowing it wouldn't be easy to relive the memories of the Katsuragi expedition, of the quarrels between her mother and father, how he had died to save her...  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"I think this one would look nice on you."  
  
Shinji looked so funny holding up an orange bathing suit that Asuka had to laugh. "That would make me look like a huge fireball...!"  
  
"Oh." Shinji replaced it on the rack. Asuka found a one-piece in several shades of blue, evidently designed to look like ripples or water. "How does this one look?"  
  
"Go try it on," he urged.  
  
Ten minutes later they left the store, Asuka carrying her suit in a small plastic bag. Shinji stopped en route to the beach to pick up another sack of oranges and several bottles of water. Much to his surprise (and delight), Asuka had found the ice cream maker and was already churning out fluffy pink ice cream garnished with chunks of real strawberries by the time he entered the kitchen that morning. The dessert had been packaged and now lay in a cooler at Asuka's feet.  
  
Asuka glanced at the clock—it was nearly noon. She suggested that they eat lunch on the sand first, then go into the water; Shinji liked this idea and parked quickly by the side of the road. From the front of the car Asuka pulled out the cooler containing their lunches and ice cream, and from the back Shinji removed their towels, beach chairs, and an enormous rainbow- colored umbrella.  
  
The redhead squealed when she first stepped onto the sand, feeling it give way under her feet. Shinji laughed and kicked off his sandals. Asuka followed his example and half-hopped, half-skipped down to the edge of the water, yelping at the burning sensation on the soles of her feet. Shinji set up the umbrella and spread out their beach towels in the shade.  
  
By then Asuka had changed her mind, and was running full speed into the ocean waves while Shinji sat lazily on the beach and ate his way through three sandwiches. Twenty minutes later she ran back up to him, dripping with seawater, clutching several large white shells in her hands.  
  
Shinji laughed at her and pulled out the ice cream.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Took you long enough, damn it."  
  
"Oh shut up. I had to work all day and then come pick you up from jail. We're lucky you got off with just a fine."  
  
"You sound like a guard yourself," Misato grumbled.  
  
Ritsuko muttered something indistinguishable under her breath. In the dim moonlight, Misato couldn't see the dark circles under her friend's eyes—not that she chose to, either.  
  
"I see you didn't take the advice I gave you this morning."  
  
"Oh shut up."  
  
Ritsuko snickered and increased pressure on the accelerator. Her car shot off into the distance, leaving the dreary jail far behind until it vanished from view.  
  
Author's Notes: I decided this time to elaborate more on Misato, since I completely left her out of the last two chapters, and Shinji and Asuka are having a very relaxed day... not particularly a happy day for Misato, but an adventurous one, nevertheless. I'm not sure if I made this clear—due to the time changes, when it's night in Japan it's day in California—I'm not sure of the exact difference in times, so I've left it at twelve hours.  
  
To Asuka201: I've taken a look at your translation—I can't read much Chinese, but it looks very nice! And thank you for adding my name and a link to this story, I'll be adding your translation to the first page of this story too.  
  
Oh yeah, another trivia question: I mentioned that Misato's bag was small and barely large enough to fit a handgun in it, with two vertical pink stripes and one white one between the two. To which anime character does this bag actually belong?  
  
Thanks guys for all your reviews! 


	19. Thursday

Asuka woke up Thursday morning with a headache. _Perhaps it was just the position I slept in, she thought dazedly._ The redhead pulled the blanket over her head and tried again to sleep.  
  
She came up a moment later for air.  
  
Asuka tossed the blanket back and widened her eyes. The large spring-green curtains were drawn back with matching ribbons, providing her with a vast view of the lake outside. She lay in her bed and watched a bird flutter down to her windowsill and cock its head as it eyed her curiously. The redhead shifted her position and the bird disappeared with a distinctive, shrill call. Sunlight streamed in and cast elongated shadows of her window, chairs, and dresser.  
  
Everything matched in this room. The curtains and bed were matching shades of pale green; the seat covers of the chairs were made of dark green leather. There was a small tree in the corner with delicate leaves, its trunk consisting of three separate parts braided together. The floor was light-colored hardwood. There were no paintings on the snow-white walls.  
  
She got out of bed and made her way to her suitcase, which rested on top of the short dresser. There was a closet near her bed, but since she would only be here for a week, Asuka hadn't seen a need to unpack and hang things up. She chose the dress Hazuki-san had given her before she left the hospital, a summery gown of pale pink with ripe red strawberries sprinkled across it. Asuka smoothed out the fabric with her hands, and the pattern reminded her of the leftover ice cream in the refrigerator. She was hungry.  
  
Her bare feet pattered on the wooden floor across the hallway. Shinji's door was wide open, as were the windows; his curtains—which were blue—billowed in the wind. The bed was made. Clearly he had left some time ago.  
  
She revived a bit over a bowl of ice cream that she ate leisurely, seated on a rotating stool before a tall, immovable table in the center of the kitchen with jade counters rubbed so shiny she could see her reflection. Shinji had left a note for her, telling her that he had gone to a meeting at work and would be home in a couple of hours. During this time, she was to do as she pleased. He had added the time—8:00 AM. Asuka glanced up at the digital clock of his oven. The time was 9:42, displayed neatly in blood- red numerals.  
  
Asuka wiped a speck of ice cream off of the counter and rinsed out her bowl. It wasn't too late—perhaps she'd try calling Misato. She hadn't talked with her former commander since arriving in California.  
  
She got only the answering machine, so she tried her cell phone. Asuka walked around the first floor as it rang, finally settling on a simple but comfortable leather bound green sofa in the living room. She spread out her body and stretched. There was a leafy plant placed against the end, and the tips of its leaves tickled her toes.  
  
"Katsuragi."  
  
"Hey, Misato," Asuka said, a smile breaking over her face at the familiar voice.  
  
"Asuka!"  
  
"How are you doing?"  
  
Pause.  
  
"Well... I just got out of jail twenty-four hours ago..."  
  
Asuka sweat-dropped.  
  
"What did you do, Misato?!"  
  
As simply as she could, Misato related the story of how she had landed in jail and how the day had passed. Asuka listened intently, an amused smile coming over her face. She heard voices in the background with Misato paused and asked, "Who's that?"  
  
"Ritsuko. I'm in Kyoto."  
  
"Tell her I said hi."  
  
Misato relayed the message. "So how have you and _Shinji _been?"  
  
She blushed furiously, thankful that she was alone and no one could see her. "We are _fine_, Misato, just _fine_," she said, accenting each "fine". "We went to SeaWorld on the first day. Tuesday I went to work with him, and yesterday we were at the beach."  
  
"Oh, so _that's_ why you weren't answering your phone..." Misato muttered, before remembering the time difference.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing. Can I talk to Shinji?"  
  
"He went to work."  
  
"Oh. Hey, Asuka, have you gotten a chance to wear that black dress we bought yet?"  
  
"Not yet," Asuka admitted, "although tonight Kensuke is holding a fancy dinner party tonight, so we'll be dressing up."  
  
"You've met Kensuke?"  
  
"Yes..." Asuka retold the story of the hour she had spent in his room, being forced to look through all the pictures he had taken of Brazil and Tierra del Fuego. "He really hasn't changed at all, Misato."  
  
Misato was silent.  
  
"Misato?"  
  
"Yeah. I was just thinking."  
  
Asuka decided to change the topic. "Will you be in Tokyo-3 by the time I come back?"  
  
"Definitely."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
By 4:00, the weather had taken an ominous turn for the worse. Shadowy clouds were rolling overhead and every room in the house was dark. Even Shinji had turned his laptop off and unplugged it, not wanting to lose his data in the event of an electrical outage. Asuka stood in front of the two- story window, pressing her nose against the cold glass. The rain began to pour down in huge sheets.  
  
"What time does the party start, Shinji?" she asked.  
  
He was spread out on the couch. "Six."  
_  
Surely it'll stop by then,_ she thought. But at five the sky remained just as dark, and Shinji announced that he was going up to change. Asuka retired to her room upstairs as well.  
  
Her window was closed, but raindrops thudded against it, and the fragile wire mesh panel shook with their fury. She turned on a light and began to rummage through her suitcase for the dress. It was in the very bottom, at the upper left corner, someplace where the movement of other clothes wouldn't have disturbed it. Asuka drew it out and shook it to loosen all the folds. Perhaps there would be time to iron it.  
  
The skirt was unusually thick. Asuka frowned and took hold of the outside layer, giving it a firm shake. A pile of dark aqua silk glided to the floor. A note was pinned to the top.  
  
_Hope you have fun – Misato_  
  
There it was—the beautiful gown she had seen while shopping with Misato in Tokyo, the one that had been perfect for her, whose cost had been much higher than her price range. Misato had evidently sneaked out and purchased it for her without her knowing. Asuka held the skirt up and rubbed the soft material against her cheek. It was an inexplicable feeling, she thought, laying it down, that Misato had done this for her. Gratitude and poignancy welled up inside her and blended into excitement. She ran to Shinji's room.  
  
"Shinji, do you have an ironing board?"  
  
"Yeah, it's in the closet downstairs." His voice was muffled and faint, as it was coming from a steaming bathroom amidst water droplets. "Do you need any help?"  
  
"I think I can figure it out."  
  
She'd only seen Misato iron her clothes a few times—usually when she had to work the next day and had run out of clean clothes. Asuka filled up the iron with water and plugged it in, thinking that a power outage wouldn't hurt in this case. When it was hot enough—she tested this cautiously by flicking a few droplets of water onto the metal surface—she spread out the skirt and moved the iron up and down over the fabric.  
  
Asuka showered and put on the dress, feeling like a princess. Misato was her fairy godmother, who had guaranteed her a night to remember.  
  
Nervously she reached for her hairbrush and drew it through the copper tresses. It wasn't that she was nervous about Kensuke—she'd met him already—but the other people that would be there. Surely she would be asked where she was from, what she did for a living, etc. Asuka took a deep breath and smoothed out her skirt. _I can do this—I can be calm and composed; I can be a normal person._  
  
"Asuka, are you ready?"  
  
She didn't want to keep him waiting. "Yes, I'm coming."  
  
He was waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase, dressed semi- formally in a nice shirt and pants. Asuka reached for the railing and began to make her way downstairs. On the third step she tripped and tumbled to the bottom.  
  
"Ouch..."  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine." Asuka faced away from him deliberately; she didn't want him to see how nervous she was. She checked her skirt for tears and found none.  
  
Shinji looked outside with disappointment. The rain was still pouring, and his car was parked a good distance away from the front door. They ran for it, Shinji unlocking his car (instead of handing the keyring to Asuka as he usually did) to save time. He turned on the windshield wipers and they began to hum merrily as they swept across the glass.  
  
Asuka looked away. She placed her head against the window, thinking of what she might say when she was asked questions. She had never yet had to introduce herself to anyone, except for the children around Misato's house... and that hardly counted. They were all too happy to accept her readily for what she was.  
_  
Where am I from? Tokyo-3._ Smile and nod. _I was a friend of Shinji's when we were children._  
  
_What do I do? I work in an ice cream parlor in Tokyo-3_. Asuka jerked out of her reciting reverie for a moment. These would all be people who occupied important positions in the management of the magazine—would they think differently of her if they knew she simply made ice cream? Asuka was scared for herself, and for Shinji. Surely, she thought, blushing as she did so, people would ask if they were a couple. She had to answer no—could she do that without blushing?  
  
"What are you thinking, Asuka?" Shinji asked. "You're awfully red—are you feeling okay?"  
  
"Yes. Are we almost there?"  
  
"We have a little while to go."  
_  
I should have put on some makeup,_ Asuka thought, glancing unhappily at her reflection in the passenger mirror. She had never done anything of the sort, but Misato had tucked a lipstick into the side of her bag at the last minute. She was certain that all the women would have their makeup done nicely and she would be...well, plain.  
  
And on top of all this lay the issue of her English. She didn't look very Japanese, but nor did she look distinctly American. In the last few days her grammar had improved immensely. She hoped that it would be good enough.  
  
Shinji placed a hand on hers. "Don't worry," he assured her. "You'll be fine."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
The sky was black by the time they reached Kensuke's house. It was smaller than Shinji's, but with all the sounds and light of merriment, it appeared very cozy indeed.  
  
Asuka stepped over a puddle and walked alongside Shinji; he had brought a bottle of fancy wine as a gift and let her carry it. The door was unlocked and Shinji, obviously having been here many times, let himself in.  
  
"Hey, Shinji!" Kensuke called over the sea of heads, waving an arm. Shinji returned the gesture.  
  
"Ah well, he seems quite preoccupied right now," Shinji remarked. "Maybe we'll hang on to the wine until a little later."  
  
Asuka nodded. Her head was swimming from the noise. People were everywhere, the men in formal clothing, the ladies all in dresses—all of which were black. She began to feel uncomfortable in her green dress.  
  
"Shinji!" A slightly balding man sauntered up to them, his arm around a lovely blonde young woman. He nodded towards her. "My wife, Daria."  
  
Daria extended a hand to Shinji, and then to Asuka. Her picture-perfect smile never faltered. "Hi."  
  
"I'm—I'm Asuka," the redhead said.  
  
Daria smiled. "Come over here and get something to eat. The men will start talking business affairs in a moment." She held a martini glass in her hands, and along the way plunked it down on a counter with other used glasses. "Asuka, I just love your dress. It goes so nicely with your eyes."  
  
"Thank you." Feeling braver, "I like yours too."  
  
Daria laughed. "Well, you know, it's been hanging in the back of the closet for years." She took a paper plate and piled it high with fresh fruit and gestured to the redhead. "Oh go on, Asuka, don't be shy."  
  
"All right." Asuka picked up a plate and followed her example, picking up some grapes, chicken, and several slices of apples. They made their way to another room filled with chattering ladies; Asuka glanced over at Shinji but he was already hidden somewhere in the crowd of people.  
  
Daria selected an empty couch and sat down on one end while Asuka took the other. "Ladies, this is Asuka, Shinji's—"  
  
"Friend," Asuka supplied quickly, hoping that any bright colors on her face would be hidden in the dim light. She took a bite of her chicken and found it cold and juicy.  
  
"It's nice to meet you, Asuka," the women told her warmly, and introduced each other amidst much laughter. Daria put an arm around the redhead's shoulder and pulled her closer.  
  
One of them placed down her plate and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "You know, when I was a little girl, I always wanted red hair. I've tried dying mine several times, but it's never looked nearly as natural as yours."  
  
"Asuka's hair is natural, Marie," Daria chipped in, and the women marveled at the color. "Doesn't it go perfectly with her dress?"  
_  
They're showering me with compliments,_ Asuka realized._ Is this normal, or are they just being nice?_  
  
"Are you just visiting Shinji, or do you live near?"  
  
"I'm just visiting. I live in Tokyo-3."  
  
"Tokyo-3!" Daria looked at her companion with admiration. "I've always wanted to visit there. I hope Steve gets an assignment there sometime so I can tag along."  
  
"What do you do there?"  
  
"I..." Asuka faltered. She had been afraid of this. "I work in an ice cream parlor."  
  
The ladies exchanged secretive looks. _Oh no, _thought Asuka, _I've said something wrong. What am I going to do?_  
  
Just as she was about to break out in explanations, Marie stood up and announced, "Well ladies, I believe we've found someone who'll know how to work that contraption."  
  
"What con—contrap—?" Asuka asked, having not quite grasped the word.  
  
Daria stood up as well. "Kensuke bought himself a homemade ice cream maker," she explained, "but couldn't figure out how to work it."  
  
Marie took Asuka by the elbow and led her to the kitchen. The machine was still in its packaging, but the lid stuck out as if someone had hurriedly shoved it back into the box and not bothered to align things neatly. Asuka took the pieces out, assembled them, and plugged it in. Daria was pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator. "There's the cream, sugar, eggs, milk... what else do we need, Asuka?"  
  
"Some fruit would be nice." Asuka was feeling more and more at home as her fingertips ran over the familiar machinery. "Is there any specific type of ice cream we need to make?"  
  
"He didn't say," Daria said. "Shall I just bring you some of everything?"  
  
"Yes, that would be nice."  
  
Marie was leaning against the counter, propped up on one elbow. "You really know this stuff well," she commented.  
  
"Practice makes perfect," Asuka quoted, drawing a chuckle from the lady. "In Japan... there are only two of us working in the store, so we are always very busy."  
  
"If I ever come to Tokyo-3, I'll be sure to stop by," Marie chuckled. "Mmm, it smells good already."  
  
Daria reappeared with several plates of various fruit. Asuka picked over the green grapes and slices of kiwi before making her decision and announcing it with a smile.  
  
"Put some of everything in."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Did you have fun, Asuka?"  
  
"Yes," she replied brightly. Her ice cream had been an instant hit; Kensuke had been amazed to taste the products of a machine he was about to return, and all the ladies had clamored around to see how it worked. Daria had announced proudly that Asuka worked in an ice cream parlor in Tokyo-3, and anyone who visited Japan had to stop by. Kensuke was delighted with the wine, and Asuka had been proud that she had gathered the courage to present it to him herself. Most of all she was pleased that the women had accepted her as one of them; she hadn't felt the least bit like an outsider.  
  
"And what did you think of Daria?"  
  
"She's a lovely woman," Asuka replied without thinking, in English. Shinji burst out laughing.  
  
"I'm glad you had fun." He ruffled her hair. "It's done wonders for your English."  
  
Asuka grinned, but then a twinge of sadness pulled at her. Today was Thursday; then there were just Friday and Saturday and she would have to leave for Japan Sunday night. Then again, the next two days would be wonderful—she could trust that to Shinji. He was right about this night doing wonders for her English—but it had done wonders for something else, too, her confidence.  
  
Asuka smiled to herself and lifted up the hem of her skirt with one hand as she stepped over a puddle and climbed into the car.  
  
Author's Notes: erm... I really don't have anything to say. Asuka201, thanks for the translation!  
  
Oh yeah, about Misato's handbag: Let's see... the story of that anime involves a Corsican girl, a Japanese girl, and a mysterious group known as the "Soldats"...  
  
Any ideas? Drop me a review and tell me what you think. 


	20. Friday

On Friday, it turned out that Shinji hadn't the vaguest clue where to go.  
  
Asuka found him at the breakfast table wearing a frown and studying a travel guide labeled simply "California", which she found odd, considering that he lived there. He'd finished breakfast: several orange seeds remained on the sticky plate in front of him.  
  
"Hey." His face broke into a smile when he noticed her, and he was quick to lay down the magazine. "Do you want me to make you something?"  
  
"No, that's fine." She sat down and helped herself to the platter of fruit.  
  
"How would you like to go strawberry picking?"  
  
"Strawberry picking?"  
  
"Well, it sounds more interesting than 'Garlic Capital of the World'..."  
  
Shinji turned the page.  
  
"Or we can go visit the Barbie Doll Hall of Fame... no wait, that's closed...what about the jelly bean factory? That should be interesting."  
  
"Okay." Asuka knew what jelly beans were. Akamatsu-san purchased them directly from the manufacturer in Tokyo-3, and she and Madoka would sometimes sprinkle a couple loosely on a scoop of ice cream according to the customer's request. Asuka loved to pick among the colors and make them match the shade of ice cream.  
  
"Do you still want to go strawberry picking? We could do that first and then go see the jelly bean factory."  
  
"That's fine."  
  
Asuka bit into a slice of apple and crunched it satisfactorily. Shinji leafed through the book some more, then left it on the table. He left the room and reappeared a little while later with his laptop.  
  
"Kensuke emailed me those pictures he took of you that first day at work," he said, not making eye contact with her as he clicked and typed. Asuka choked on her piece of apple. "Look."  
  
He whirled the laptop around.  
  
"Oh_, no_..."  
  
She hadn't remembered Kensuke taking that many pictures, but there were twenty-three in all, all shot in a short period of time so that they looked like still frames of a motion picture. The first one showed Asuka smiling, and the next changed to an expression of shock; in later pictures she was ducking behind Shinji with only an arm visible and finally, only Shinji's amused grin.  
  
Asuka blushed and closed her eyes. "I hope no one ever sees them..."  
  
"Hm... maybe I should email them to Misato?"  
  
Her eyes popped open and he threw up his hands in mock defense. "Just kidding... when do you want to leave to go strawberry picking?"  
  
"Now would be fine."  
  
"All right. Do you want to go ahead and get in the car? I'll clean up here–and the keys are on the counter."  
  
Asuka took his keys and went outside, enjoying the sunshine. It was relatively cool due to the rainstorm. She pointed the mechanism at the car and pressed the little button. The car greeted her with a beep and a flashing of its lights. Asuka got in and sat down.  
  
It smelled—like Shinji. She touched the seams of the leather seats, thinking wistfully that she would have to leave soon. Shinji strode out, interrupting her reveries, and shut the garage door.  
  
"You should've worn your strawberry dress." He started the engine.  
  
"But I wore that yesterday."  
  
They traveled on several large highways, then smaller, local roads—and finally through a dusty unpaved road. Several miles down, Asuka spotted a handwritten sign that read "Strawberries" with an arrow pointing straight ahead.  
  
A mile later, nothing that vaguely resembled a strawberry had appeared.  
  
Shinji was agitated. He was sure the road hadn't forked anywhere, and he was certainly still driving on the dusty old road. Could that sign possibly have been left over from years past? Then again, the magazine he had been reading was quite recent, issued only last month, and he had followed its instructions down to the letter...  
  
"There!"  
  
Shinji's head jerked upwards. "What? Where?"  
  
"_There!_"  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"There; you may go anywhere over the fields and pick as many strawberries as you like, and return here to pay when you are finished."  
  
Asuka was in front, carrying a cardboard tray in which she began to stack ripe strawberries. It was a skill, she thought, to be able to find the perfect strawberry. She had just a bit of experience selecting strawberries—they had to be perfectly ripe, since strawberries did not ripen once they were picked. They had to be bright red and firm, with no bruises. She loved perfectly-shaped strawberries. Asuka brushed aside a leaf, found the perfect strawberry, and plucked it.  
  
"How do you keep having such good luck?" Shinji came over, wearing a pout. He had picked a total of five strawberries, two of which were bruised and leaking juice all over the others.  
  
Asuka slapped at a pesky mosquito. She found a perfect strawberry and held it up in her hand. "Look, Shinji... to be perfectly ripe, it should be bright red, no bruises, no holes from insects..."  
  
Shinji looked red-facedly at his meager harvest.  
  
"Okay, let's start over," he said cheerfully, tossing the bruised ones over his shoulder, not bothering to see where they landed. Asuka noticed, however.  
  
"Mommy! Something just hit me in the back! Oww! It hit me again!"  
  
"Let me see, Kevin..."  
  
"It's wet!" The little boy ran over to his mother, twisting his neck and pulling his shirt around in an attempt to see what had hit him. "Eww! Mommy!"  
  
The mother shifted the baby to her other hip and crooned softly to the one in her stroller. "Let me see..."  
  
There were two purple-red splotches on the back of his shirt.  
  
"Kevin!" She straightened up as best as she could, for the baby was wailing and kicking. "You've ruined another good shirt! That's the last white one you have!"  
  
"But Mommy..."  
  
"I don't want to hear any buts, Kevin. _You have to be careful!_ What did I tell you on the way? _Strawberry juice doesn't wash out!_" She patted the girl on the head and set her on the floor, where she toddled a few steps before falling. Kevin rolled his eyes and turned back to picking strawberries, the mishap forgotten. Dirty clothes were not an issue to him, regardless of how much they might irritate his mother. He moved back a step—and stepped on his sister's foot. The child let out a cry.  
  
"_KEVIN!_"  
  
"I'm sorry!"  
  
A sigh. "Pick up your basket. We're moving to a wider row, where Kara can move around freely. And Julie, _please _don't throw your pacifier down again... it's getting all dirty."  
  
Shinji was hunched over, his face as red as Asuka's strawberries. Asuka, on the other hand, was struggling not to laugh.  
  
"I feel really guilty..."  
  
"He'll get over it." Asuka knew this from experience; the boy reminded her strongly of Makoto. "It's his mother that'll have to suffer, but I'm sure she can handle it." _As could Kimie._ She missed Kimie. "He'll be off and running again in no time."  
  
Shinji glanced over his shoulder, barely daring to show his face, but Asuka was right; the boy was running far ahead of his mother, who was pushing the stroller with one hand and carrying her middle child in the other.  
  
Asuka bit into a strawberry. It was sweet and succulent, having just been plucked moments ago. The redhead glanced at the small family in the distance as she licked crimson juice from her lips. The boy was running and jumping around, the baby happily settled in a patch of strawberry plants, and even the mother was relaxed now. They reminded her of the children back in Tokyo-3—Makoto, Keiichi, Kimie, and all the others. Were they here, Makoto would be running to stuff his cheeks full with ripe fruit; Kimie would be calmly filling a basket with perfect fruit, occasionally pulling her youngest brother back within her reach. Keiichi's behavior would be somewhere between the two.  
  
She put another red berry into her tray. _If only we could all live together in Japan, _she thought wistfully. It was something to look forward to, however, seeing the children and Misato again; Asuka knew she had been moping way too much over leaving Shinji. She turned back to her patch.  
  
"Hey!" Shinji called excitedly. "I found a perfect one!"  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
It began to soon get uncomfortably hot, and the mosquitoes came in huge swarms. Asuka was tired of the furry sensation that strawberry leaves left on her hand, and Shinji was frustrated at finding insect-infested berries. He paid for their strawberries (three full trays in total), and they set off towards the jelly bean factory. It suddenly occurred to them that strawberries had to be kept chilled. The fruit would not fare well if it were left in the Californian summer heat for several hours.  
  
Shinji stopped at the first grocery store he could find and immediately headed to the ice freezer—but then Asuka reminded him that they couldn't simply place the ice bag on top of the strawberries; they needed separate containers. Shinji thought this over and wandered around the store, looking for anything that could hold ice and strawberries and keep the mixture cool for some time. Then he found the section of children's lunchboxes.  
  
Several people gave them weird looks as they made their way back to the car, carrying four lunch boxes apiece, but it solved the problem. Asuka layered ice in the bottom of each lunchbox and Shinji placed a single layer of strawberries on top. After sandwiching eight lunchboxes of ice and strawberries and placing them in the shade, the two climbed back into their respective seats and continued the drive.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
They were ushered into the factory in groups packed so closely together that Asuka held on to Shinji's arm for fear she would trip over someone. She passed time by alternating standing still and moving forward about ten feet at a time. She had not known that jelly beans were so popular in America.  
  
There was an attraction in the very front that kept drawing "ooh"s and "ahh"s from the waiting tourists, but Asuka could not see what it was, even as she stood on tiptoe. When her turn came, she was disappointed at not being able to recognize the man whose portrait had been created out of jelly beans. Shinji identified him as Ronald Reagan, the 40th president of the United States.  
  
"Such a great president," sighed the lady on duty, who was waiting for her turn to take them on tour. She wore a large green apron sprinkled with jelly beans of all different colors. "There's an identical portrait in his hometown of Dixon, Illinois."  
  
A light overhead flashed green, and the woman got up quickly from the railing she was leaning on. She waved her arms.  
  
"All right folks! This way!  
  
"It takes seven days to make a jelly bean," she explained, as the group of people boarded a large elevator that took them up to the second floor. She took a microphone off of the elevator wall and continued to speak over the marvels of the tourists, all of whom were plainly much more interested in watching through the glass walls than listening to what she had to say. "Fortunately, they are not made one at a time; in fact, they are made millions at a time. Jelly beans are made mostly out of sugar, although they also contain some water and starch. They have two parts—a center and an outer shell, which contains the flavor—look to your left, that machine is pouring sugar into the mixer—"  
  
"That's an awful lot of sugar," Shinji commented.  
  
"—after the solution is done, it will be used to fill little jelly bean molds and heated so that all the water evaporates, leaving us with a solid jelly bean center."  
  
The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. The tour guide led the way out, and Shinji and Asuka followed. They were now on a sort of balcony with a floor of strong wire mesh framed with metal fences to ensure that no one fell into the tanks.  
  
"Right this way, please." Her heels clanked on the mesh; she walked quickly, and Shinji and Asuka hurried to keep up. "We are now in a section of the factory where the outer covering is added to the jelly bean centers. If you look down there now, you can see one of our bean-hives, where the dried bean centers are being coated with a mixture of sugar, coloring, and their proper flavor. Yes?"  
  
A little boy in the front had raised his hand. "What kind is being made here?"  
  
"Buttered Popcorn; it's one of our most popular flavors."  
  
She paused to let them admire the art of jelly bean making.  
  
"The hive spins them around and ensures that each bean is sufficiently coated with the butter mixture. During this process, pipes are used to suck out the air so that the beans dry and do not stick together. When they dry, they will eventually be mixed with other colors, packaged, and shipped off across America."  
  
Shinji and Asuka followed everyone else back down to the lobby, where they were given free samples. Asuka didn't care for the taste of jelly beans and handed her package to Shinji, who ate his way through half the bag before choking on a jalapeno flavored bean.  
  
"We need to go soon," Asuka pointed out, recalling the strawberries in their back trunk. "We've still got—Shinji? Hey, Shinji?"  
  
Shinji was bent over a trashcan, spitting out every last trace of the jalapeno jelly bean.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Are you sure you don't want any?"  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
Shinji popped another bean into his mouth. The second package was now open and sitting in a little crevice under his radio, and his hand kept straying to it.  
  
Asuka jumped suddenly, and Shinji swerved. "Oh! I should have saved some to bring back to the children!"  
  
"You can have the rest," Shinji offered, twisting up the top of the bag. Asuka shook her head. "Or we can always purchase a bag at the store that looks exactly the same. You can tell them how jelly beans are made, and only you and I will know that I ate all of our original jelly beans."  
  
"All right. One bag might not be enough though..." She trailed off, thinking about the boys.  
  
"You can buy as many as you want." Shinji plucked another one from the bag. Asuka laughed at him—he'd been eating all the way home—and snatched the bag away playfully.  
  
Shinji pouted.  
  
Author's Notes: To tell the truth, I haven't been to California in more than nine years (and I was six years old then) so I really don't know much about it. Nor do I know anything about jelly bean making, so I did a bit of research on that; my apologizes for any errors I've made (several parts came directly from my imagination). In case anyone is interested, there really is a jelly bean factory in Fairfield, California!  
  
I'm really sorry for having the story drag on for so long; I promise it's almost over!  
  
And yes, Misato's handbag belongs to Mireille Bouquet, the Corsican blonde of Noir. (I don't own any part of that, either). Congratulations to selti and Amethyst Wind! 


	21. Saturday

Kimie was an early bird, as her brothers liked to call her; she rose daily with the sun. She didn't generally have much choice—the boys liked to sleep in a bit, and they liked to eat before doing anything else in the morning. In addition, her little rooms were always in need of sweeping and dusting—Kimie liked to have things perfectly neat.  
  
But last night Keiichi had come up with the idea to go exploring, and after much cautioning from their older sister, he and his younger brother—and a crony of friends—had set out. Kimie busied herself scrubbing the floor and cooking up a large meal for the boys. Things, however, didn't work out quite as she had liked—Keiichi had apparently thought it funny to place a large spider on Makoto's arm; Makoto saw it, panicked, and ran screaming home. On the way he tripped over a branch and cut his knee severely on some thorny bushes. Kimie had to go find them; dinner was put on hold, and it was very late before everyone returned to his or her respective beds. She slept late the next morning, and her brothers had followed suit.  
  
A loud crash woke her several hours after sunrise, and she looked at her clock. It was 9:38 AM. Kimie leapt out of bed, threw on some clothes, and ran to the kitchen, her heart pounding.  
  
All was silent, untouched. No one had broken into her house. Kimie stood against the wall, not daring to move, and listened.  
  
"Ah, damn you..."  
  
It was a female voice. Kimie blinked. She crept to the window and peeked out.  
  
Misato was furiously kicking her car, which was tipping precariously off the road. Apparently the engine had died, for Misato gave up kicking, went to the back, and began pushing with all the force she could muster while pelting it with every random curse she knew.  
  
Kimie ran outside to help.  
  
"Asuka-san's coming home tomorrow, isn't she?" she asked, as they planted their feet behind the vehicle and pushed.  
  
"Mmm—yes," Misato ground out. "That's why I came back from Kyoto. I have to go pick her up tomorrow night." She kicked the car again. "Move!"  
  
"Makoto's all excited about seeing Asuka-san again," Kimie remarked, almost to herself. "He's got so many adventures to tell her about...and he wants to hear all about your time in Kyoto, Misato-san."  
  
They pushed for awhile longer with little effect before Misato gave up.  
  
"Thanks for your help anyway," she said, smoothing out her skirt. "You'll bring the children over tomorrow night to celebrate?"  
  
"Yes, I will," she promised.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Both brothers were awake when she got home, and complaining loudly of their hunger. Makoto's knee was still swathed in a thick makeshift bandage; she would have to change that later. Kimie focused on cooking and ordered the two to sit at opposite ends of the table to avoid fighting.  
  
Things had been like this for several years, since Makoto was a toddler. Kimie had rocked and sung him to sleep; she had taught him how to read and scolded Keiichi for teasing him. Keiichi had always been the independent one; even before they had lived alone, he'd always taken care of himself. The one thing he couldn't do was cook—that was his older sister's duty. He'd proven himself quite capable of doing the laundry and washing dishes—he just managed to avoid doing it on most occasions.  
  
Kimie sliced bread and brought over three steaming bowls of miso soup. There was rice leftover from last night's dinner, so she warmed that as well.  
  
"Misato-san's back," Kimie commented, "and Asuka-san is coming home tomorrow."  
  
"I want to tell her all about the rocks I found!" Makoto shouted.  
  
"She doesn't care about your rocks, _baka_," Keiichi scoffed. He sipped his soup leisurely while Makoto turned a bright red.  
  
"She does too!"  
  
"Does not!"  
  
"Does too!"  
  
"I wonder if—"Kimie cut in loudly, attempting to break the tirade of "does- not" "does-too"s, but Makoto pounded his fist, and it landed in his bowl of miso soup. The hot liquid splashed out and soaked him.  
  
Keiichi burst out laughing and ducked under the table. Kimie ran to get clean clothes for Makoto, thinking wearily that she had even more washing to do.  
  
Twenty minutes later they were (somewhat) fed and dressed in clean clothes. A large group of boisterous children came and took Makoto and Keiichi off, shouting to Kimie that they were going to Misato's for watermelon. Would she care to join them?  
  
"No, thank you, I have a lot of work to do today," she called back.  
  
Kimie hated to waste food. She poured whatever was left in Makoto and Keiichi's bowls into her own, thinking that she would make a bit more rice and perhaps some vegetables for lunch. The rest of the plates she stacked in the sink—her first responsibility was to mop up the soup on and under Makoto's chair. Thank goodness the floor was tiled, and not carpet; it made things much easier to clean.  
  
She washed the morning's plates and without bothering to turn off the water, threw Makoto's clothes in and began to scrub. Her kitchen window was open and she could hear birds chirping outside. Perhaps her robin would come back today. After she finished the washing she would go outside to mend the pants Makoto had torn yesterday. The day looked very promising.  
  
Kimie loved trees, and she had brought many a tiny sprout to her dwelling and coaxed it to grow. There was a slender maple tree growing by her door, just three years old, and a tall weeping willow off in the distance, where the boys loved to romp around and hold challenges to see who could climb the highest.  
  
On the other side of her house, where she hung laundry to dry, Kimie had planted a small juniper bush and frequently used the berries to make a strong solution which supposedly helped to alleviate the effects of bug bites. She had personally never found it useful, but Makoto liked it. She preferred aloe, which also served to cool burns (and Makoto had suffered plenty of those). That she grew on her kitchen windowsill, among many others. Keiichi had recently fallen backwards and wound up sitting on top of Kimie's prized young oak tree. The slender tree trunk, barely thicker than Kimie's finger, had promptly split in half. Kimie had replanted the top half in a small pot on her kitchen windowsill, where it was now flourishing. Kimie grew catnip for curing upset stomachs, rosemary for headaches, and meadowsweet for lowering fevers. Lavender she raised simply because it smelled good.  
  
She had grown to dislike the doctors in Tokyo-3; most refused to treat her brothers since she wasn't an adult and didn't have proper papers, or asked questions she didn't want to answer. Over the years she had gradually learned the uses of each forest plant, both by experimenting and reading books she borrowed from the library (one of the few public places she enjoyed). Kimie had learned to recognize them and slowly coaxed each one to grow in her kitchen.  
  
She finished the washing and watered each houseplant in turn.  
  
Kimie stacked the wet laundry in a large bucket and tucked Makoto's pants into her pocket. Her clothes were always sun-dried, and she ensured that by spreading them out across her sloped roof on a sunny day.  
  
When this task was completed, Kimie chose a shady spot under the willow tree and pulled out Makoto's pants. The tear was fortunately not big and would not take her long to mend. She threaded a needle and wondered what her brothers were up to.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"So tell us about Kyoto, Misato-san!"  
  
"Yeah! What did you do there?"  
  
"Did you have fun?"  
  
Misato thought of her jail visit and sweatdropped.  
  
"I went shopping once," she said at last. "Mostly I stayed at home, since I mainly went to visit Ritsuko-san. I cooked and cleaned for her."  
  
"That's the doctor, right?"  
  
"Right." Misato sank her knife into a ripe watermelon, and everyone cheered.  
  
"Asuka-san's coming home tomorrow!" Makoto announced proudly through a mouthful of watermelon. He spit the seeds out to his left, and Keiichi had to duck his head to avoid being hit.  
  
"Watch it, will you," he snapped.  
  
"We should make something special for her," one of the girls said shyly, wiping watermelon juice from her lips. She was one of the younger ones who rarely got a say in anything. Misato smiled warmly at her.  
  
"What would you like to make, Tamika?"  
  
"A picture frame," someone chipped in.  
  
Thus began their project for Asuka's homecoming. The children gathered together and agreed on the design and materials. Misato cut the frame out of heavy cardboard and thick paper. The boys found pinecones and the girls ran home to bring their pressed-flower collections, and together they glued them on to assemble a lovely frame for Asuka. Makoto donated some of his favorite rocks. Misato found the picture she had taken and sent to Shinji for his magazine, and slipped it in. The children all promised to come tomorrow, so that they could present it to her.  
  
"And Keiichi, Makoto, make sure you bring Kimie," Misato advised.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
The sun had moved overhead and passed. Kimie had fallen asleep under the tree, shaded by the branches. She opened her eyes to find that they were level with the grass. Cool, sharp little blades of green had imprinted their shape on her face.  
  
She heard a chirp directly overhead and looked up. The bird cocked his head and looked at her curiously. Kimie smiled, recognizing him by the dark spot on his rust-colored front. Perhaps he had already visited her windowsill and found no one there. Kimie reached into her pocket and sprinkled some corn kernels on the grass. The bird spread his wings, fluttering down. He began to peck animatedly at the corn. Kimie lay motionless, watching. When he was done, he hopped a little closer, then took off without warning.  
  
Kimie sat up reluctantly. She didn't have a watch, and her only clock was in the kitchen. Mentally rebuking herself for falling asleep, she stood up and went inside.  
  
It was two in the afternoon. There was no sign that her brothers had returned—the kitchen was neat and clean, and her refrigerator remained organized. They had apparently either eaten lunch at Misato's or someone else's house. Makoto and Keiichi did not like to go long without food.  
  
She drank the leftover miso soup from breakfast and ate some bread, then cleared the counter and took out a bag of flour. Her latest visit to the library had yielded some interesting cookbooks, and there were several recipes she wanted to try. If things worked out well, she'd make another one for Asuka-san's homecoming tomorrow.  
  
She had checked out a book on American-style pies. In each picture the pie was perfectly puffed up, the crust cooked to a golden brown, the fruit juice oozing out through the top. Kimie opened the book and took out a rolling pin, frowning. She was going to have to make her own pie shells. Plenty of flour, some salt... a few teaspoons of shortening... She added water in little spoonfuls, just enough so that the ingredients mixed into a soft, flaky dough. Kimie sliced off the ragged edges with a sharp knife and placed it over her pie pan. It was too small. She made some more crust and rolled it out again.  
  
The illustration in the book included beautifully scalloped edges and a criss-crossed top crust. Those designs didn't quite fit her capabilities, however, so she skipped them and made a similar, smaller crust for the bottom.  
  
Now for the filling.  
  
Kimie propped herself up on one elbow and flipped through the book. Her crust would do for any pie in the book, but she would have to choose a filling Makoto and Keiichi liked. Perhaps a pear pie would do, although she had never heard of such a thing. There were fresh pears growing on the tree she grew at the back of her house. Kimie donned a pair of worn shoes and ran to the back.  
  
She slowed down as she reached the tree and gave the fruit a squeeze. It was still firm, not fully ripe, but it would do. She plucked it with a firm tug and a bug hopped off, landing on a nearby leaf. Kimie shivered and flicked the bottom of the leaf with her index finger. The bug buzzed off angrily.  
  
Sometimes pears tend to be nestled in the depths of the tree, shielded and guarded safely by leaves. Kimie climbed the tree and held herself in place with her strong legs while determining which pears would suit her purpose. She picked nine in all, not knowing how many she would need, but wanting to have enough. Each was crisp and leaked just a bit of juice over her kitchen counter as she sliced and peeled them. She put one in her mouth and savored the cool taste, turning back to the book.  
  
Following its instructions, she mixed sugar and flour, vanilla and other extracts. The result was a translucent gooey liquid that reminded her vaguely of egg whites, except darker and thicker. She dropped in her sliced pears and stirred until each piece was coated sufficiently, then poured it into her pie crust and secured the edges. She certainly didn't want the top crust falling off in the oven. Kimie reread the directions once more to satisfy herself—she liked to be sure that she had done everything correctly—and placed the pie into the hot oven.  
  
Cleaning up was almost enjoyable when she was the only one in the house, and the food wasn't yet ready to eat. She felt it was a good way to save time; hardly anything irked the young girl more than laboring for hours to finish a meal, sitting down to eat it, and then facing the large amount of pots and bowls and dishes that had to be washed. Tonight she would only have to rinse out the three dishes she, Makoto, and Keiichi would eat from. She hoped that some of the pie would be leftover for breakfast.  
  
The door burst open abruptly, followed by "I'M HOME!"  
  
"Something smells good," Keiichi commented, taking off his shoes. Kimie beamed. Makoto ran into the kitchen and opened his grubby hand.  
  
"Look, look, Kimie! I found another pretty stone!"  
  
"It's wonderful, Makoto," she complimented him. "By the way, I've finished mending your pants. They're on your bed, so please hang them up before you go to sleep."  
  
Makoto waved his fistful of rocks and disappeared.  
  
"I'm sorry Keiichi, can you run out and grab the mail?"  
  
He nodded, threw on his shoes, and ran back outside, slamming the door. A moment later he returned, waving something expectantly.  
  
"Asuka-san's sent us something!"  
  
Makoto ran out of his room, pulling on his newly mended pants, and Kimie ran to meet him, ignoring the wet counter. "What does it say? Where is she?"  
  
Keiichi looked the postcard over and threw it at Kimie. "You read it."  
  


"Dear Makoto, Keiichi, and Kimie:  


  


"Two days ago I landed in California, where Shinji-kun lives. His house here is very big and has plants growing everywhere. I have my own room. Some of the windows cover the entire wall! Yesterday we went to SeaWorld, where we saw flamingoes and dolphins. Shinji-kun bought me a stuffed animal dolphin. During the dolphin show, the animals splashed a lot, and poor Shinji-kun was quite soaked!   
"I visited his office today. One of our old friends, whom I knew when I was just older than Kimie, also works here. He was very surprised and showed me lots of pictures. Did you know Shinji-kun has been to Brazil?   
  
Love, Asuka."  


  
= = = = = = =  
  
The two brothers crowded around their older sister as she deftly sliced the pie. The crust was browned nicely, as she had hoped, and broke into large flakes at the firm touch of her blade. Makoto got the first slice, the filling spilling out of his piece onto the plate. Keiichi got the next, and finally Kimie cut out another for herself. The hot, sweet scent wafted from the open cut of the pie into the air.  
  
"Hey, can I have another piece?" Keiichi asked bluntly. Kimie stared. She had barely had time to sink her fork into the corner of her piece, and Keiichi was already done.  
  
She sliced him another. Even Makoto had seconds, and then thirds.  
  
"So what did you boys do at Misato's today?" Kimie asked between bites. "You didn't come home for lunch, so I figured you must've been pretty busy."  
  
"We made a pretty picture frame for Asuka-san," Makoto said.  
  
Keiichi added, "Misato put in a picture that she took of Asuka-san several months ago."  
  
Kimie smiled. She was only half listening; the other half of her mind was busy thinking of the pie she would make tomorrow. Should the filling be of peaches, bananas, or wild raspberries? Or perhaps a traditional, old-style apple pie would do. Whatever she chose, there was one fruit to avoid... and that was the thick-skinned, frosty red watermelons, which grew in the hundreds in Misato's backyard...  
  
Author's notes: Lots to say this time (compared to the last two) For one, I leave tomorrow morning at 9 for Japan, so unfortunately it looks like I won't be finishing this fic before I go. I am going to try and write the last chapter and epilogue out by hand, type it up, and post it when I reach Shinji and Misato's homeland (I guess Asuka is more German...)  
  
And I miss my girl Kimie, so I've decided to dedicate a chapter to her. You can decide how Asuka and Shinji spent their last day together in California (no bad things—please keep the rating of this fic in mind!)  
  
Also, when Keiichi and Makoto address Kimie, it would seem more likely for them to use "oneesan" (big sister) but I didn't want to disrupt the flow of English with a random Japanese word, so I've simply replaced it with "Kimie".  
  
I noted that some reviewers did not agree with the view of the jelly bean tour guide on President Reagan. Please understand that I only added him in because of the actual jelly bean portraits that have been made of him; I'm certainly not qualified to decide whether or not he was a good president, since I wasn't even born when he was president. I'm sorry if I offended anyone with that statement.  
  
Hmm... I think that's it for now, drop me a review and tell me how I'm doing. Thanks so much to all of you (especially those of you who have stuck with me from the very beginning—Honouza, jennyjennai to name a very few)! I really appreciate your support. Thanks! 


	22. Sunday

"I'll be there, then," Shinji cut in, clearly exasperated. "Oh, that—I don't care. Anything but the green, since it doesn't go with our cover story. Yes, I'd appreciate that, thank you very much—by the way, is Kensuke there?"  
  
He listened intently, absentmindedly shuffling around papers with the other hand. The clock on the wall ticked along cheerfully, never stopping, and soon made another full rotation around its face. The time was 8:38 AM. If his plane left at nine-thirty PM, he would have plenty of time to see Asuka off before hurrying off to catch his own flight.  
  
"Just a question—why wasn't I informed of this earlier?"  
  
The reply was not what he wanted to hear, although Shinji didn't think there was anything that he would have accepted as a good response. His secretary, normally very calm and capable regardless of the situation, was becoming flustered under his harsh tone, and Shinji was beginning to feel the first pangs of guilt. It wasn't her fault, after all.  
  
"I'm sorry, Marta," he sighed. "One last thing—can you find the article about fluorescent sea animals—I forgot what it was called, sorry—and deliver it to Ben? He had a few editorial comments he wanted to make.  
  
"All right, thank you, Marta—I'll see you Wednesday after next, and if anything comes up then you can either email or call my cell."  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
In another wing of the house, Asuka stretched. If only the Japanese had such luxurious beds, she thought enviously. Surely three or four people could fit on a bit this big, but it was all hers. It would be hard getting used to a simple cot on the floor again.  
  
She loved the ceiling fan. It was painted green to match everything else and consisted of five flat panels arranged so that each was an equal distance from any other, giving it the appearance of a very large flower. Asuka had turned it on last night before going to sleep, and all night it had hummed merrily, occasionally adding in a whistle. The blades blended together into one round disk. It was past time to get up.  
  
Asuka sat up and folded her hands into fists as she stretched her arms. She lay down again, wanting to savor the flavor of such relaxation; after all, tonight she'd be back to sleeping on Misato's hard floor. The redhead placed herself flat on top of the thick blanket with her back facing up and placed her head on her hands. She closed her eyes.  
  
Someone knocked on the door. "Asuka?" Shinji called tentatively. "Can I come in?"  
  
Asuka leapt up, blushing. "No—no, give me a minute," she called out quickly. "I'm dressing."  
  
"All right."  
  
_Quick, must find clothes_, Asuka thought, digging through her suitcase. There would be a lot of repacking to do tonight—but she didn't have time to think of that now—she had to find something proper and clean to wear!  
  
Her hand touched the blue pleated skirt Misato had bought for her before leaving Japan. In her other hand she seized a white shirt, and hurriedly threw them on.  
  
"Sorry," she apologized, upon coming out.  
  
"It's fine," Shinji pointed out, smiling. "But, Asuka... your shirt is inside out."  
  
Asuka looked down and noticed that indeed, all the seams were sticking out.  
  
"Excuse me..."  
  
Ten minutes later she reappeared, properly dressed, teeth and hair brushed, with the latter drawn back into a low ponytail as Hazuki-san had often done for her. Shinji was heating leftovers from last night's dinner and making some fresh rice and vegetables.  
  
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "It looks like I'll be leaving today as well—Kensuke has managed to secure us on a tour of the French countryside—only he didn't get the news until this morning. Since I won't be home for over a week, I need to finish eating all of this or it'll go bad."  
  
Asuka didn't mind at all. In fact, she'd been hoping that there would be some of his noodles left.  
  
"What time will you leave?" she asked, in slightly accented English. Shinji smiled into his coffee as he stirred with a small silver spoon, and it pleased her.  
  
"After you, so don't worry. I'll drive you to the airport and see you onto the plane before I leave. And I promise I'll mail you a postcard from England."  
  
He stirred the coffee some more, and then took a sip. "Where do you want to go today? Other than the grocery store, to buy jelly beans for the children? You'll need to buy some snacks for the flight back, too—I can't imagine how you survived, eating all that airplane food."  
  
"It wasn't too bad," Asuka admitted. "I want to go down to the lake. I saw some geese there this morning."  
  
"All right. Do you want to go shopping? I should've asked earlier..."  
  
"No, no it's fine," she insisted. "I have everything I could possibly need in Tokyo-3, and I can buy what I want with my salary from the ice cream parlor. I don't have to depend on Misato anymore. It's...a wonderful feeling of freedom," she finished slowly.  
  
Shinji laughed. "I know how you feel. I had to restrain myself from spending it all when I got my first paycheck."  
  
She joined in the laughter, thinking of just how much he must've had to save to buy this house.  
  
Shinji drained his coffee in a few more sips, but Asuka took her time with the noodles. She had seen Shinji slice the vegetables and add certain spices. Perhaps she could make it herself at home—and show Misato a thing or two about proper noodles. Asuka grinned wickedly to herself.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"Does Japan allow importing food?"  
  
He shrugged. "As long as you eat it on the flight, it doesn't enter the country. And about the jelly beans, I don't think they'll mind. It'll be packaged, anyway—they're mainly concerned about fresh produce and meat."  
  
Shinji told her a story about his first flight to America. "When we went through customs, they were randomly opening up people's suitcases. This one poor girl had a suitcase full of food—apples, pears, carrots, you name it—even meat—all of it was confiscated, and she was fined heavily. What a terrible experience for one's first day in America."  
  
Asuka dropped the bag of jelly beans back onto the shelf. Shinji scoffed and threw it back in their cart. "Japan is much less restrictive on this sort of thing. Don't worry, packaged candy won't hurt you." He picked up the bag himself and studied the package. It was identical to the free samples they had been given two days ago. Shinji gave it some thought, and tossed two more bags into the cart. "For eating on the plane," he admitted guiltily.  
  
He bought a couple of pears for his flight and for Asuka, several apples and five persimmons. Asuka followed him into the aisle of multicultural food and watched in surprise as he plucked three boxes of Mexican rice off of the shelf.  
  
"I must say, I've learned to like it after Marta brought it to Kensuke's party," he said. "Did you try some?"  
  
"A little, but I didn't like it very much." Asuka remembered Marta. A middle-aged woman with beautiful copper-colored skin who held kindness and quiet capability in her eyes. She had brought the redhead into her small cubicle and shown Asuka pictures of her two grown children. One was in college and the other was a senior in high school. Their pictures plastered her small moveable wall, from babyhood through their teenage years.  
  
Shinji threw the boxes into the cart. "That should be enough. I don't particularly care for French food."  
  
"Will they let you into France with all that?" Asuka teased.  
  
"I'd rather take the risk of getting caught and being fined. I'm not going anywhere without food!"  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
Misato was still in a fury over her car.  
  
"If there weren't so many children around, I would be cursing so—violently," she growled. Makoto and Keiichi, among others, were racing around her house energetically. Every few moments she cast a glance to make sure no one was hurt, then turned back to complaining about the car.  
  
"The problem hasn't gotten better at all, Misato-san?" Kimie asked sadly. She was perched atop a chair in the kitchen, rolling out flour and salt for tonight's pie. A few droplets of water soaked into the dry dough. Kimie flipped it over and gave it a pat. Pie crust!  
  
"Well, it moves," Misato confessed grudgingly, "very slowly, however, and it is a MAJOR pain in the—"Kimie glanced at her warningly: "...it's very hard to steer."  
  
Kimie smiled. "Well, that's an improvement."  
  
"Not nearly enough," Misato grumbled. "At that rate, I should be setting out—about NOW—in order to get there by the time she walks out of the airport. And her flight's not due to land for another three, no four, hours."  
  
The two women worked in silence, Kimie on her pie and Misato on the four different dishes she was preparing, not divulging just how much she would like to taste Shinji's cooking again. There was a massive thundering on the stairs.  
  
"We're going outside, Misato-san!" the boys called as they ran out the door.  
  
Misato nodded to them and wiped her hands on a towel. "Kimie, you haven't yet told me what's going in your crust. What have you planned?"  
  
"Well," the girl faltered. "I don't quite know...I made pear for my brothers yesterday, and they loved it, but we all ate so much that I'm not willing to go near my pear tree for a few days."  
  
Misato laughed. "Whatever filling you choose, don't pick—"  
  
"—watermelon," Kimie finished for her, and both burst into laughter. "I really do have to decide soon, Misato-san, before my crust dries out. What can I put in it? What does Asuka-san like?"  
  
"She eats just about anything I buy," Misato said thoughtfully. "I wonder what I have?" Kimie laid her crust over the pie pan and waited while the purple-haired lady rummaged through her refrigerator. "I have two apples, three peaches, and a string of grapes. There's not enough of any one fruit to make a pie, is there?"  
  
"We could put them all in." Kimie was enjoying herself. "A fruit salad pie. Do you have any vanilla extract, Misato, and sour cream?"  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"I'm sorry we didn't come here earlier."  
  
"Me too."  
  
They were sitting on the grassy slopes of Shinji's backyard, which extended into the lake. Shinji had thought to bring bug repellant, and now they were able to enjoy the nature without being bothered by the buzzing insects.  
  
Asuka was sitting back, propping herself up with her hands, but Shinji was lying spread eagled in the grass, not caring that he was getting grass and dirt all over his shirt.  
  
"Will you come back to Japan someday?"  
  
"I expect so." Shinji's answer was filled with certainly.  
  
"To stay?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.  
  
"I don't know, Asuka." A pair of meadowlarks took off into the air above them and Shinji followed them with his gaze for some time before looking away. "It would be just as hard for me to leave California forever as it would be for you to leave Tokyo-3 forever.  
  
"Hey," he grabbed her hand, for she was looking very sorrowful, "please don't be sad, Asuka. I'll write to you, and I'll send you a postcard wherever I go. Think of—of all the children in Japan who are waiting for you to come home and tell them stories. I'll bet none of them have ever traveled as far as you. Think of how happy the jelly beans will make them, and how happy Misato will be when you teach her some new recipes."  
  
Asuka smiled then. Shinji looked at his watch. "We have to go."  
  
= = = = = = = =  
  
Flight 289 from Los Angeles, California, direct flight to Tokyo-3, Japan was on time and scheduled to take off at 7:03 PM. Flight 594 from Los Angeles California, to Paris, France, with a stop in Barcelona, Spain, was late and not scheduled for take off until 10:50. Shinji's expression sank like a stone.  
  
"I wonder why we're flying to Paris," he mused, rubbing his chin. Paris did not seem like his idea of French countryside. Surely Kensuke or Marta will fix it up. They always have.  
  
Asuka followed him to the gate, where there was time for a quick hug before check-in began. She put her arms around him and abruptly broke apart, averting his eyes. Shinji was looking over her baggage. "You've got everything?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sure," she said.  
  
"Oh, I almost forgot." He reached into his wallet and pulled out a photograph. It was identical to the portrait of himself, Asuka, and Rei hanging in his living room. It was the original. "Keep this."  
  
Asuka glanced from the young Shinji's face into the twenty-six year old's. "Are you sure?"  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"Thank you." Asuka embraced him one last time and ran towards the flight attendant inspecting tickets. When all she was clear, she waved. Shinji returned the gesture. Asuka hurried into the corridor connecting the plane to the airport.  
  
She was gone.  
  
Shinji blinked, almost daring to hope that she would stick her head out and wave at him again. But she didn't.  
  
= = = = = = =  
  
"So I was driving home from Ritsuko's for most of the night, and this piece of trash decides to die on me when I'm just twenty feet away from my own damn house!"  
  
Misato was fuming very loudly, so loudly that some nearby drivers pulled down their windows and yelled at her. Then again, perhaps they were demanding that she speed up—they were only moving at eight miles an hour.  
  
"How's Ritsuko?" Asuka asked timidly.  
  
"She's fine, doesn't like her job much, wants to redye her hair since it's fading just a bit," Misato scoffed. "Honestly, if anyone needs their head dyed, it's me, given the amount of white hairs I've had to pull out recently—"  
  
She ranted on for awhile, then asked, "How's Shinji?"  
  
"He's quite a successful businessman," Asuka commented. "We went out to the party of one of his colleagues, and I found the green dress, Misato. Thank you—you really didn't have to do that."  
  
Misato smiled sweetly and opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment the car jerked forward. The speedometer's arrow quivered and flipped around until it was pointing at 95. They speeded past the drivers that had earlier thrown insults at them.  
  
"HAHAHA, THIS IS MORE LIKE IT!" Misato shouted, as they flew through a red light.  
  
"Misato, please stop!" Asuka screamed over Misato's wild yells. The car lifted off the asphalt for a few seconds, then smashed down on all four wheels. Misato gave the wheel a sharp turn and the car turned 180 degrees around. It was with great relief (for Asuka) that the car finally skidded to a stop some hundred meters down the street from Misato's house.  
  
"Wait, wait," Asuka insisted, as Misato made to back up. "I'm getting out."  
  
She ran up to the house alone, but before she made it the doors and windows burst open, and children jumped out of them. Tamika was waving the picture frame, Makoto his rocks, and Kimie came out to top it all with a fresh fruit salad pie. The redhead ran toward them, feeling truly loved. She called out each of their names and swept them into a bear hug.  
  
Asuka reached for her bag and remembered it was still in Misato's car. She felt guilty for not having her arms filled with presents for the children, as they had for her, but she would as soon as her bags were unpacked. If they ever got to the front door. Asuka turned to see Misato running into a pothole.  
  
And then she heard Shinji's voice echoing in her head over the children's shouts.  
  
_Think of all the children in Japan who are waiting for you to come home and tell them stories. I'll bet none of them have ever traveled as far as you. Think of how happy the jelly beans will make them._  
  
Author's Notes: This is essentially the end of Finding Asuka Langley, but an epilogue will follow (hopefully if I can finish it in the next seven hours, I'm writing on the plane to Tokyo-1, and this will be up when I get there)  
  
I've also decided to change the rating to PG... it's sort of been teetering on the edge, especially with all the "damn"s Misato shouted while in jail.  
  
I'll have some more formal comments for the epilogue... thanks to all of you! 


	23. Epilogue: Finding Rei

She blinked hard. Crystalline white snowflakes fluttered gracefully from the sky and came to a rest on her eyelashes, giving them an icy, crusted look. This did nothing to improve Asuka's sight, and she wiped them away. They melted on her hand.  
  
Shinji came to her side a moment later, as she leaned against the car, folding her arms protectively around herself. Her hair was down around her shoulders, folded loosely into the thick beige winter jacket she wore. Misato had bought it for her as a Christmas gift. She wore neither a hat nor any trace of makeup.  
  
"It's gone," she said quietly. Shinji nodded flatly. He had not expected anything less. He had known that the great building that had once housed Nerv would no longer be standing, waiting to welcome them.  
  
"Do you want to take a look around?"  
  
She nodded, and he took the first step away from the car. Asuka followed, her steps making fresh prints in the soft layer of snow on the ground.  
  
Neither had given a thought to the Geofront in over a decade; they could only assume that it had been torn down in the years since Nerv had disbanded. There was nothing left of the calm determination belonging to Misato, nor the quick thinking of Ritsuko. Peace and tranquility had replaced panic and desperation.  
  
A variety of slender saplings had replaced all man-made structures in the vicinity. They were spaced unevenly, suggesting that no one had taken the trouble to plant them properly; perhaps they had sprouted from seeds carried on the wind. Their branches were bare and forlorn now, ghostly figures of the ample summer, cold and dead to the touch. Asuka reached for one and noticed the tiny buds at the tips. Life prevailed.  
  
They had come for Rei.  
  
Not that they were expecting to bring her home. Shinji had no plans to bring her to California, where she would put on endless layers of sunblock to protect her skin. Asuka had no plans to find her a job in the ice cream parlor.  
  
No, they had only come to put an end to everything, but one person who should have been there was missing.  
  
One whose life begun and ended here. The one who piloted the prototype, Evangelion 00. The one whom Asuka had once teased mercilessly, calling her "The Favorite" and "Wondergirl".  
  
They didn't know what had become of her. Ritsuko had confirmed that she had simply ceased to exist. She had vanished into a footnote of history.  
  
"We left because we had places to go, things we wanted to do," Shinji said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. "She didn't want to leave. She had nowhere to go. When Nerv disintegrated there was nothing left for her."  
  
"What about your father?" Asuka asked.  
  
A muscle in his cheek twitched at the mention of his father. "She was a tool for him," he ground out furiously. "He abandoned her in the end. I haven't spoken to him since I left Nerv, and I don't intend to ever again.  
  
"What about you?" he asked. "What about your...past?"  
  
Asuka shifted. It was still a sensitive subject for her, and both of them knew it. "I decided to let it go," she said quietly. "I don't plan to find anyone—and I don't want to relive anything. Misato and I agreed that this is for the best—that I've completely restarted my life—in a good way."  
  
Shinji nodded. He was relieved.  
  
They knew even less about the technicians. Maya Ibuki had apparently kept in contact with Ritsuko for a short time, and Makoto Hyuga with Misato, but eventually all four had found a new life away from angels and Evas and grown apart. No one knew anything about Shigeru Aoba. Shinji recalled his love for the guitar and hoped that he was well.  
  
_It seems the sort of cemetery Rei would have chosen for herself,_ Asuka thought, her thoughts returning to the blue-haired girl. _Away from other people, in a sort of beautiful solitude._ She wondered what the grove looked like in full bloom, not recognizing any of the trees. Perhaps some would bloom pale blue flowers.  
  
That drew her thoughts back to the bouquet of flowers they had purchased on the way here. It was fairly simple, with daisies and lilies and irises and an occasional sprig of baby's breath all wrapped in plastic pink paper that crinkled under her grip. She glanced up at Shinji, who wore a look of deep sadness.  
  
_I could almost believe that Rei might be sitting just around a corner, reading silently, while life goes on around her—without her._  
  
_It's not only a resting place for Rei,_ he thought, _but for our hopes and dreams. Our fears and nightmares. The days of angels and Evas and SEELE and Nerv are over—all buried here.  
_  
Silence reigned.  
  
Asuka was thinking of Ritsuko's words. "Ceased to exist," she echoed hollowly. The wind picked up her words and scattered them. "What a terrible end."  
  
Shinji didn't reply, but one solitary tear was making its way down his left cheek.  
  
The redhead lowered her head and closed her eyes. A moment later she opened them again and her gaze came to rest on a small tree that came barely to her waist. Its first buds were ready to burst into soft petals, yet its branches were still bare. Asuka stepped over to it ceremonially and placed her bouquet at the bottom of the trunk. There was a short pause before she decided the pink paper was out of place, and ripped it off. She didn't want anything to disturb Rei.  
  
"Let's go," Shinji said, placing his arm awkwardly around her shoulder. Asuka looked up to see that the tear had vanished. Instead, he was looking straight ahead, a determined look on his face, ready to face the future. He blinked—and for just a fleeting instant—Asuka saw the grief he had suffered for Rei. She was neither jealous nor hurt. She felt the same tumult of emotions.  
  
Shinji stepped backwards and turned away, keeping his arm around her. They were halfway back to the car before Asuka ducked her head and freed herself from Shinji's hold.  
  
"Wait a moment," she called, running back to the makeshift memorial.  
  
Asuka slid to a stop on her knees and quickly unbuttoned her jacket. Hidden in the deep folds of her jacket was the photo that Shinji had given her in California months ago—the one of herself, Shinji, and Rei walking down the street with their schoolbags. Asuka had carefully laminated it for this purpose, and now she laid it against the bouquet of flowers. She took one last look at it, running her fingers over the sharp edges, then got up and brushed the snow off of her knees.  
  
"Ready?" Shinji asked, as she came running up to him.  
  
"I'm ready," she replied softly, climbing into the car.  
  
Shinji smiled and put a hand over hers as the engine whirred to life. They drove away in a soft breeze, one that bowed the many branches of the grove, and ruffled the silky petals of Asuka's bouquet.  
  
Author's Notes: Wow, now that this fanfic is over, I have lots of things to say...  
  
First of all, I have to apologize again for the lateness of this epilogue—I promised it would be up a long time ago, and I never got it up. Sorry!  
  
This was the original ending I planned from the beginning, with a few changes. (This is the second draft—I took out some Shinji/Asuka romance things and changed the setting from early spring to winter.) I wanted for there to be some closure and not always have the question of the past hovering over their heads. Also, I didn't want an ending in which Shinji asks Asuka to marry him and they live happily ever after; I wanted to leave it relatively open.  
  
Looking back at the fic now, I think that the chapters detailing Asuka's car accident and her recovery were really, really rushed, but then again, the story became much longer than I originally expected for it to be. Other than that, I was fairly pleased with the outcome of the story.  
  
And lastly, I could not have done it without all of your support. Thanks so much to jennyjennai, Hououza (I hope more animes come to the UK soon!), Asuka201 (I'll be keeping up with your translation—thank you!), nicknack (sorry, I promise I'll be nicer to Rei in my next fic—you can call me a Rei- hater all you want now), SonLee16, windwingxs, supereva 01-02, "New, too lazy to log on..." (sorry, I don't know what to call you), Stoked, Amethyst Wind (I love that name!), selti, St Pika, Itsumo Hitori, teva, Verloren, Ishagu, Ghost Man, Stormofdragons, beege, The Shadows, Night, Mistress of Anime, CKeffer, Drake, Farook, Keen Drallin, XXXG-00W0, roselle, shadowfox83, ignorantly grinning, legacyZero, Dsojourn, cevgar, ShadowScythe, Dark-Titan, Dies K. Irae, Junho, Climhazzard, Larania Drake, Harvey Bautista, Deep Blue Seraph (another beautiful name), D14852001 (my apologies that Rei and Shinji didn't get married), Serehfa, thegrinstreaker, NeonGensis, and one special reviewer who chose to leave his/her name as (). Thank you all so much!  
  
And thanks to all of you who participated in my weird trivia questions! 


End file.
